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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26716627">Witness Protection</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsMe_Basil/pseuds/ItsMe_Basil'>ItsMe_Basil</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abduction, Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, BAMF Derek Hale, Childhood Trauma, Depression, Derek Hale Takes Care of Stiles Stilinski, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Laura Hale Lives, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Abuse, Police Officer Derek Hale, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Relapsing, Sexual Abuse, Sheriff Stilinski is Not Stiles Stilinski's Parent, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things, Stiles Stilinski Suffers, Stiles Stilinski is Missing, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Talia Hale Lives, Torture, Touch Aversion, Touch-Starved, Underage Drug Use, Warnings May Change, Witness Protection</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:41:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26716627</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsMe_Basil/pseuds/ItsMe_Basil</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Derek Hale was new to the force, a case stumbles into his lap in the form of a thirteen year old boy with enough Cocaine on him to open an operation in Beacon Hills. </p><p>It turns into the biggest drug sting the county has ever seen, and with the kid's help, Derek and his team takes down a known drug lord named Deucalion. With the man behind bars, the kid is forced into witness protection, and Derek never hears from him again. </p><p>That is until five years later, when Stiles' handler is murdered and Stiles disappears.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>603</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So this story is very heavy! Lots of drug use, sexual assault, murder, gun violence and a lot of bad things happening to minors! Please be warned that the things happening to Stiles in this story actually happen in real life! Drug trafficking, human trafficking, drug abuse and the trauma that comes with it are real problems, that real people struggle through! I am not trying to make light of these struggles. If you can't handle any of what I've tagged or written about in this note, please do not read this story.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek Hale hated the city. He hated how dirty it smelled, how grimy the air was. Today was especially crummy, with heat reaching nearly ninty-eight degrees fahrenheit. It made the dirty smell of Beacon Hills fester. </p><p>He couldn't get away from it. It clung to his uniform the same way his sweat did. He was sitting in the squad car, grumbling under his breath. The air conditioning didn't work, and even with the windows rolled down, there wasn't a breeze to curve the shouldering heat. </p><p>He had four more hours left on his shift before he could crawl out of his uniform and into shorts. Four more hours before he could get out of this damned city and breathe in the clean air of the woods. </p><p>"Hey, check it," Boyd said. Derek glanced at him before following his line of sight across the street. There was a kid, pale, wearing baggy clothes with a backpack over his shoulder. </p><p>It wasn't uncommon to see kids on this street walking to or from school -the middle school wasn't that far away. Derek might have over looked him on that alone, but it was barely noon, and the kid looked shady. </p><p>He was looking over his shoulder every couple steps, wiping at his nose, hood up and head down. It was way too hot to be wearing a hoodie on top of the jeans the kid wore. </p><p>"Playing hookie?" Derek guessed, though it didn't sit right with him. Something was off about the kid. Possibly homeless, but the way he walked, the way his hands fidgeted told Derek something different. </p><p>"Let's check it out," Boyd hummed. "Think he might be on something."</p><p>Vernon Boyd was a good cop. He grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, and had the street smarts to prove it. If he thought the kjd was on something, Derek believed him. </p><p>So the two got out of their car, Derek radioing it in as they walked towards the kid, who had yet to look up and spot them. </p><p>The closer they got, the younger the kid looked. He couldn't be older than ten or eleven. His pant legs were too long and scuffed against the sidewalk. He was definitely wearing an adult sized hoodie, the ends dropping to his knees and sleeves rolled up to expose his hands. </p><p>"Hey, kid," Boyd called when they were close enough. "Where are you off to-"</p><p>The kid looked up, and a second later he was spinning on his heels and sprinting away. </p><p>"Shit!"</p><p>Derek and Boyd took off after him, Derek cursing the way his uniform stuck to his skin, making it hard to run. </p><p>Derek was a faster runner than Boyd. He managed to reach the boy -who made it a block- and grabbed him by the backpack. </p><p>The kid yelped, the bag ripping. Derek grunted when the kid slipped out of the bag, springing away again. Derek snatched him up before he could get very far and the kid screamed, kicking and punching wherever he could reach. </p><p>Derek had the kid on his stomach seconds later, ankles crossed and pressed into his butt. Derek straddled the kid to keep him from uncurling his legs, and pinned his arms back as well. </p><p>"Hale!"</p><p>Derek looked up to Boyd, who held the kid's bag in one hand. The kid underneath thrashed under Derek as Boyd dipped his hand into the bag, bringing out a rectangle package of white powder. Derek blinked in surprise. </p><p>"There's gotta be seven kilos here," Boyd scowled, putting the coke back. </p><p>"Its not mine," the kid grunted, wriggling under Derek. Derek looked to Boyd before turning back to the boy. </p><p>"You're under arrest."</p><p>"No! It's not mine!" The kid screamed. Derek held the kids wrists with one hand while he reached for the handcuffs at his hips. </p><p>"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," Derek droned, snapping the cuff on the kid's thin wrists. He was crying now, yelling and struggling under him. </p><p>"You have the right to an attorney," Derek continued over the kid's wailing and struggling, managing to get the other wrist locked in place. "If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you."</p><p>It was easy to haul the kid to his feet, Boyd staying close by with the backpack while he radioed the station. </p><p>"Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?" The kid sniffled, snot and tears wetting his face, but he said nothing. </p><p>"With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?" Derek finished. Again, the kid said nothing. He was shaking, slumped forward, sobbing. </p><p>Derek lead him back to the cruiser, huffing at the sweat that clung to him from the run. He was overheated, and he was sure the kid was too. </p><p>Before he put the kid into the back seat, he pressed his chest into the side of the vehicle. </p><p>"Do you have anything on gou I need to be made aware of?" Derek asked. The kid choked out a noise, hands shaking bad enough to worry Derek just a bit. He wondered if the kid would pass out. </p><p>As protocol, Boyd stayed close by while Derek frisked the kid. He found a pocket knife in his back pocket, and a baggie of coke in the hoodie pocket, which he handed over to Boyd before guiding the kid into the seat and shut the door. </p><p>He took a breath, meeting Boyd at the front of the car. Boyd had the bag on the hood, pulling the cocaine out and stacking it. Derek knew if they weighed it all it would be seven kilos, or close to. He shook his head, trying to wrap his head around how a ten year old could have that on him. </p><p>"He's most likely a drug mule," Boyd said, reading Derek's mind. Beside the coke, he found a pair of socks and a notebook. </p><p>"They get them that young?" Derek asked incredulously. Boyd only nodded, flipping through the notebook. It was full of drawings and lists and scribbles. </p><p>"Let's bring him in," Boyd sighed, putting everything into evidence bags. Derek nodded, the two of them slipping into the car and starting the engine. </p><p>The kid was still crying and shaking, he kicked at Derek's seat, smashing his worn and broken sneakers into the metal bars separating the back half of the cab from the front. </p><p>The drive back to the station was hot. The wind that came with the speed was just as hot as if they were sitting still, and the kid wasn't helping Derek's mood improve in the slightest. </p><p>They reached the station. Boyde grabbed the evidence, Derek grabbed the kid. He refused to walk on his own, and when Derek tried just pushing him into motion, the kid dug his heels in, shouted and twisted to try and get away. </p><p>Derek grunted, wrapping an arm around his waist and lifting him off his feet. The kid kicked as he walked them into the station, managing to hit him in the knee. </p><p>Derek gritted his teeth to keep from growling and walked through the bull pen. The kid caught everyone's attention as he walked to his desk near the back. </p><p>The air conditioning was cranked on full blast. He dropped the kid on the chair beside his desk, grabbing the key from his pocket and unlocking one of his wrists. The kid didn't try to attack him now that one wrist was free, but Derek still cuffed him to the side of his desk. </p><p>Boyd sat on the desk opposite him, evidence sat on the desk. The kid looked over at it, then set his jaw and looked away. </p><p>Derek sat down at his desk, pulling up a blank file on his computer. </p><p>"Whats your name, kid?" Derek asked. The kid looked up at him, resolutely keeping his mouth shut. </p><p>"Listen," Derek sighed. "You can either tell me your name or I can get someone from the lab up here to take a sample and get it that way."</p><p>The kid looked back up at him with wide frightened eyes, breathing coming out in quick pants. He knew he probably shouldn't scare the kid, but he needed a name. See if the kid was missing. If he could find his parents or guardians, he could get some answers. </p><p>"I'm gonna get someone from social services up here," Boyd hummed, which just seemed to freak the kid out even more. </p><p>Derek nodded at Boyd before turning to the kid. "How about you give me your name," he tried, softening his voice a little. "You're not in trouble."</p><p>He was in trouble. But Derek needed to figure out how a kid so young could get involved in drug smuggling. </p><p>The kid chewed on his chapped lips, tears filling his eyes again thr longer they sat in silence, before the kid broke. </p><p>"I wanna go home," he cried, face turning red. "I want to go home!"</p><p>Derek sighed, ready to try and sooth the kid before Reyes walked over, catching both of their attention. </p><p>"Hey, kiddo," she smiled, crouching down in front of the kid. She placed a hand on the kid's knee and he yanked himself away, wiping at his face with a shaky hand. </p><p>"I'm Erica," she smiled, not perturbed by the kid's aversion to touch. Derek sat back in his chair, watching the kid suck snot back up into his nose, wiping fruitlessly at his cheeks with his free hand. </p><p>Reyes slapped Derek's thigh, waving for the box of tissues on his desk. Derek slid it into her hand and she quickly pulled a couple from the box before handing it to the kid. </p><p>"I know this is super scary being here," Reyes continued, watching as the kid wiped his face clean, his crying puttering off. Boyd was speaking quietly into the phone behind them. </p><p>The kid was calmed down enough to get his breathing relatively even, hiccuping occasionally. </p><p>"Do you want some water?" </p><p>After a second, the kid nodded. Derek got to his feet, making his way to the water cooler and filling a little plastic cup up before bringing it back over to his desk. </p><p>The kid took it with his free hand, drinking it all in one go before holding the cup tightly. </p><p>"I want to go home," the kid managed, voice wobbly. He looked at Reyes with pleading eyes. She gave a small sympathetic smile. </p><p>"I know, but we need your name in order to find where your home is."</p><p>"I know how to get there," the kid said. </p><p>"I'm sure you do, but we'll get in trouble if we don't do our jobs the right way, understand?"</p><p>After a moment, the kid nodded. He was chewing on his cheek, looking on the verge of tears again. "How about we take these off, hmm?"</p><p>The kid nodded. Reyes uncuffed the kid from Derek's desk, but Derek said nothing. The kid shoved both hands into his lap, right between his thighs to hide the shaking. </p><p>"Can you tell us your name?"</p><p>"Mischief," the kid said quietly, not looking up from his lap. Reyes smiled. </p><p>"Is that a nickname?" Mischief nodded, wiping at his nose again. </p><p>"Whats your last name?" Reyes asked. Derek wrote the nickname down. </p><p>"Social services should be here in an hour," Boyd said, hanging up thr phone. Derek nodded, but kept his focus on the kid. </p><p>"N-Novak."</p><p>Reyes smiled again. "Okay, Mischief, that's really good," she praised. Derek leaned forward in his chair, typing in the last name. He age ranged the kid around ten or twelve and hit search. </p><p>There were twenty-seven missing children with the last name Novak in California. He hoped the kid was from California, but if he was a mule, the kid could've been from out of country -though his accent said differently. </p><p>"Am I going to jail?" Mischief asked, tears welling in his eyes again. </p><p>"No," Derek said. </p><p>"No, sweetheart, you're not going to jail," Reyes said with a smile. </p><p>"But- but he said I was being arrested-" Mischeif was cut off with a hiccup. </p><p>"Thats just police talk," Reyes waved off. Derek went back to finding the kid. "You won't be arrested. We're just going to find where you live and ask you and your parents some questions."</p><p>"I'm gonna get in trouble," the kid cried, lower lip wobbling. "Please let me go home."</p><p>"Is your first name Noah?" Derek asked. The kid looked over at him before scowling. "Alex, Dominic, Wyatt?"</p><p>The kid looked away. </p><p>"We're just trying to help, honey," Reyes said softly. </p><p>"Youre going to make him mad!" Mischief snapped, tears in his eyes. "Please let me go home! I wanna go home!"</p><p>"Who's going to be mad?" Derek asked, Boyd leaning forward to listen in too. Mischief folded his shaky arms, legs bouncing. </p><p>"If he's using, he might be going through withdrawal," Boyd said, pulling the cops' attention. Mischief rubbed at his nose, glaring over his shoulder at Boyd. </p><p>Derek sighed, running a hand over his face. Just then, a woman in a pencil skirt stepped into the bull pen and Boyd waved her over. </p><p>"Hey, Mrs. Blake?" Boyd asked, standing to his feet. The woman smiled, shaking his hand. "I'm Vernon Boyd. Let's talk over here."</p><p>The woman nodded, taking a look at Mischief before following Boyd out of earshot. Derek turned his attention to Mischief. </p><p>"She's going to sit with us while we ask you questions, until we can get your legal guardian here, okay?" Derek asked in his softest voice he could manage. </p><p>"I need to use the bathroom," Mischief sniffed, looking up at Derek. Derek nodded and stood up, holding a hand out for the kid to stand as well. Reyes stood, stepping back. </p><p>Derek lead the kid to the bathroom, standing outside of the stall while the kid did his business. </p><p>When he finished, he washed his hands and stuffed them into his hoodie pocket before Derek lead him back to the desk. </p><p>Only the kid tried to make a break for the front door. Derek snatched him by the hood, stopping him and stearing him around to his desk. </p><p>"Don't think so," he grunted. The kid scowled up at him and flopped into the chair. Boyd was taking the evidence to lock up. The kid eyed the coke with a frown. </p><p>Mrs. Blake brought a chair up, her own file set on her lap. "Hello, Mischief. My name is Mrs. Blake, I work with social services."</p><p>Mischief eyed her, but said nothing. "I'm going to sit in while officer Hale asks you a couple questions. If you're not comfortable answering them, you don't have to, okay?"</p><p>The kid didn't acknowledge hearing her, so Derek dove right in. He narrowed down the name down to two, an unpronouncable one starting with an M, and Alexander. </p><p>"Does your name start with an A?" Derek asked. The kid chewed his lip. "What about an M?"</p><p>That got a reaction. A small twitch in his jaw. Derek nodded, clicking on the name and quickly reading over the file. </p><p>"Okay, we're going to take you to the hospital to get checked out," Derek said, printing out the missing persons file to add to the file he was already starting on the kid. Mischief looked up between the two adults, fingers twitching against his arms. </p><p>"They're going to give you a check up and get a sample of your DNA so we can match records," Derek continued. </p><p>After that the parents were usually called, but unfortunately for the kid, his parents had died around the time the kid went missing. He would go with Mrs. Blake and be put into the system. </p><p>Derek still needed him to tell him where Mischief got the coke, and a lot more, but for starters, they'd take him to the hospital to make sure he was okay. </p><p>Mrs. Blake decided to drive in the cruiser with Derek, the kid in the back seat. The drive to the hospital wasn't long, and the kid wasn't as loud and violent as before. </p><p>Derek kept a hand in the kid's hoodie as the three walked into the hospital to the ER. </p><p>Mischief was taken back to do the check up, and because of the circumstances, Mrs. Blake and Derek stayed in the room with him. </p><p>It was a fight to get the hoodie off, and under was a dirty white t-shirt. Derek noticed the track marks on both arms, the bruising and the bones sticking unhealthily through the skin. </p><p>A nurse swabbed his cheek and took it to the lab, and another one checked his tonsils and throat. Mischief wiggled and yanked himself away from their touches, but didn't bolt. </p><p>He was weighed and measured. He was underweight, dehydrated, and definitely withdrawing. Derek scowled. The kid was barely a teenager. </p><p>More needles drew blood, an IV was put in the backside of his hand, he was told to take off his pants and underwear. </p><p>Derek felt for the kid, watching him being checked out. Having to be checked by so many people. But it was Derek's job to be there, as well as the doctors and nurses, and Mrs. Blake. </p><p>He was given a hospital gown that hung from his shoulders like drapes. </p><p>The doctor took Derek and Mrs. Blake outside to speak to them, repeating his findings to the two, and then recommending he stay in the hospital while he was cleansing. Derek and Mrs. Blake agreed. The kid was too young to go through the withdrawals on his own, and it would be safer for him to have people constantly monitoring him. </p><p>"I think it might be wise to have an officer stay with him," Mrs. Blake said when the doctor -Mr. Dunbar- left to visit other patients. </p><p>"I agree," Derek hummed. Someone had given the kid the coke, someone used him as a mule, and that someone was going to be pissed when the kid didn't show up where he needed to. </p><p>Until Derek and Boyd could figure out who that someone was, Derek needed to keep an eye on the kid. </p><p>"I'll be back in the morning, we can compare notes," Mrs. Blake said. "I'm only here for his well being, so if he's going to be apart of this investigation, I'm going to be here."</p><p>Derek nodded again. When Mrs. Blake left, Derek brought his phone out, letting Boyd know what was going on before stepping into the exam room. </p><p>"We're going to move you to another room," the nurse was saying. "Itll be more comfortable  for you."</p><p>Mischief said nothing, but he moved from the bed to the wheelchair without a fight. Derek followed the two to the elevator. </p><p>His shift should've ended two hours ago, but he couldn't leave. The sheriff knew what was going on, Boyd having debriefed him. </p><p>The nurse lwad them to the fifth floor. It held most of the detoxing patients. The shouting and threats from the rooms gave Derek goosebumps, and Mischief was shaking and jerking at the sounds, winding himself up. </p><p>His room was small, empty except for a bed, a TV mounted to the wall and a bedside table. There was a recliner beside the bed. </p><p>"Okay, kiddo, hop into bed," the nurse said. Mischief did, the hospital socks on his feet hanging loosely. </p><p>Everything Derek needed to know about the withdrawal symptoms had been explained outside of the room. He would keep an eye on the kid. He was already part of a rotation between Boyd and Reyes. </p><p>He settled into the recliner, watching Mischief curl onto his side, buried under the covers. He listened for the kid to drift off to sleep, sniffles dying down before pulling his phone out to let his family know what was going on. He set the phone down just as another nurse walked in with two cups of water. </p><p>"We'll be in with some medication for him to take in about an hour," she said softly, eyeing the sleeping kid. There was a folder under her arm that she slipped to Derek. "His tests came back."</p><p>Derek nodded his thanks and the nurse stepped out of the room. He flipped the folder open, reading over the tests and results from the physical. </p><p>The kid was in fact Mieczysław Novak, age thirteen. Born April eighth to Claudia Genim and Jakub Novak. He flipped through the papers, scowl deepening with every word he read. </p><p>Signs of physical and sexual abuse, malnutrition and dehydration. They found Heroine and Coke in his system, though thankfully nothing else. </p><p>He stayed up late into the night, knowing Reyes wouldn't be taking over until five am. He wanted to make sure Mischief was okay. </p><p>The kid woke up once to use the bathroom, which Derek supervised with the door cracked. He was fidgety and sniffling. Scratching at his arms as he crawled back into bed. </p><p>The nurse came in with medicine to help curve the symptoms of withdrawal, and then he was asleep again. Derek wondered if the withdrawal would be easier because he was so young, or harder.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek woke up to a hand on his shoulder. He blinked his eyes open to see Reyes smirking down at him. </p><p>"My turn to babysit," she said softly. Derek glanced over to see Mischief still fast asleep, curled in on himself. A cup of steaming coffee is shoved into his hands and he gratefully takes a sip. </p><p>"How's he doing?" Reyes asked, looking over at Mischief. </p><p>"Slept most the night," Derek said, getting to his feet and stretching. "Withdrawals won't get bad for another day. If he's able, try to figure out who he got the coke from. Otherwise just keep him in the room."</p><p>"I'm fully capable, Hale," Reyes rolled her eyes. "Quit worrying about the kid and go home. You need a shower."</p><p>Derek scowled at her, but she was right. He hadn't changed since the start of his shift. He took the coffee and the file with him out of the room after checking on Mischief once more. </p><p>He would take the file back to the precinct to add to the file already being worked on, and then he would go home. It was early enough in the morning that taking the detour wasn't going to matter. </p><p>Almost everyone was just coming in for their shift. Derek was at his desk when Boyd walked in, his own coffee in hand while Derek scanned the pages into his computer, adding them to the missing persons file, the statements from Boyd, Mrs. Blake and himself, and the evidence list. </p><p>"Weren't you at the hospital?" Boyd asked, falling into his chair. Derek was saving his progress onto the joint file between him, Boyd and the sheriff, as well as on a flash drive so he would work on it on his personal computer. </p><p>"Just finishing up," Derek said, shutting his computer down and getting to his feet. </p><p>"How's the kid?"</p><p>"Fine," Derek said, dropping his half empty coffee into the small trash under his desk. "He'll be in the hospital for two weeks, and then he'll be handed over to social services. Depending on what the kid tells us, he might need to stick around."</p><p>Boyd nodded in understanding before shooing Derek away, demanding he go home and sleep. </p><p>He did. He arrived home before his family could wake up and took a shower before dressing in sweats and a t-shirt before falling face first into his bed and falling asleep immediately. </p><p>He woke up around lunch to Cora jumping on him. He grunted at the knee in his lower back and rolled over so he was pinning her down. She giggled and wiggled under him. </p><p>"Momma made lasagna," she said, voice strained and breathy from Derek's weight on her. Derek closed his eyes, still tired as fuck. </p><p>"Lasagna for lunch?" Derek asked sleepily. Cora tried pulling herself out from under him, but there was quite a big difference in their sizes. </p><p>Derek blinked his eyes open, realizing sadly that Mischief and Cora were only a couple months apart in age. </p><p>Cora had began pounding on Derek's shoulder for him to get off, yelping and causing a fuss, so Derek rolled off and stood up. </p><p>He walked out of the room with Cora on his heels, scrubbing at his bedhead. </p><p>"Did you pick up another shift?" Talia asked when Derek made it into the kitchen, plunking down on the stool. </p><p>"Not really," Derek sighed, smiling sleepily at his mother when she set a plate of lasagna in front of him. "Picked up a case, which is looking like it's going to take a while to wrap up."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>Derek glanced at Cora before looking back at Talia. "Yeah. Picked up a runner, found powder on him. Social services is involved and we can't interrogate the kid until he's clean."</p><p>Technically Derek couldn't talk about an active case to anyone who wasn't on it, but Talia had been a big help on other cases he had divulged to her. Not only that, but Talia had worked in social services for Derek's whole life, and then became a foster mom when Cora turned twelve. </p><p>Their current foster kid was an eight year old named Issac. He'd been here for a little over three months and was falling into the family perfectly. </p><p>"Cora, honey, why don't you and Issac go eat in the living room," Talia said. "You can watch TV."</p><p>Cora was old enough to know a dismissal when she hears it, so she scoops up her and Issac's plates and lead the kid to the living room. </p><p>Derek poked at his food, taking a bite before sighing. "He's only thirteen, mom," he said.</p><p>Talia pulled up a chair, settling for one of their very illegal talks. Derek told her everything from finding the kid on the streets to leaving the hospital. </p><p>Talia listened silently, hand on his arm while he spoke. When he was done, Talia inhaled before blowing it all out slowly. </p><p>"You're taking night shifts with him?" Talia asked. Derek nodded. Reyes was five am to one pm. Boyd had one pm to nine pm, and Derek took nine pm to five am. If needed, Haigh was willing to pick up a shift or two with the kid. </p><p>"Who does that to a kid though?" Derek demanded, looking at his mom hopelessly. "He's Cora's age!"</p><p>Talia squeezes his arm, patting him before kissing his forehead. "The world sucks, kid. That's why you're a cop, and why Laura is a nurse."</p><p>Derek nodded. He heard it all before. The Hales were well known for their charity work, getting involved in any and everything they could. Derek became a cop to protect those who couldn't protect themselves, Laura became a nurse to work in a non-profit hospital for people who couldn't afford to get help. </p><p>Talia worked with children who were given a bad hand. His dad had been a lawyer for the minority before he died. And Cora wanted to be a veterinarian. The Hales took care of their community because the world sucked, and if there was something they could do to make someone's world a little better, they'd do it. </p><p>"Who's the social worker for the case?" Talia asked after a moment. </p><p>"Blake," Derek said. "Short, pencil skirt, fifties hairdo."</p><p>Talia smiled. "Jennifer," she said. "She's really good. Can be a little sharp around the edges but she's got the kids' wellbeing in mind."</p><p>Derek nodded, finishing his meal before moving to the couch. </p><p>Derek could get his own place -should get one, honestly- but he chose to live at home, even going on twenty-five. Laura had moved out right after nursing school. </p><p>It was just easier being home. The house was big enough that if he needed his space it was easy to avoid people. Derek stuck around to help Talia with Cora and now Issac. </p><p>He fell onto the couch, already thinking about taking a nap when Issac crawled into his lap, remote in hand. Cora was good at sharing TV time. Not when she was younger, but she was at an age where she was getting into live-action movies, but still liked cartoons, so Issac could watch whatever and Cora would watch with him. </p><p>They were currently watching reruns of Avatar: The Last Airbender. Derek slouched, head resting on the back of the couch while Issac snuggled in close. </p><p>It took about two months for the kid to warm up to Derek. He had an aversion to men, which was understandable given his past abuse. Derek was slow and patient with him. </p><p>Now, the kid requested cuddles almost any time Derek sat down, and didn't shy away from him. He still flinched if Derek rose his voice in frustration or didn't keep his body language in check after a bad day, but that kind of trauma took a long time to heal, so Derek tried his best. </p><p>"Are you going back to bed?" Cora asked. </p><p>"Yeah, I'm working night shift for the next couple weeks," Derek hummed, patting Issac's head. </p><p>He fell asleep not long after that, only being woken up once when Issac crawled off him, digging a bony elbow into his gut. He grunted, jolting a bit. </p><p>"Sorry!" Issac yelped, yanking his elbow away. </p><p>"Its okay," Derek grumbled, still too tired. Issac climbed off to sit on the couch beside him and Derek was out. </p><p>He woke up for dinner, sat with the three other house mates and then decided to get ready for work. </p><p>He was just buttoning his uniform shirt when Cora and Issac scurried in, bouncing on his bed. </p><p>"When are you gonna be back?" Cora asked. Derek tucked the shirt into his slacks. </p><p>"I'll come home before you two wake up."</p><p>Derek put his belt on, buckling it before grabbing the holster and gun and securing it to his hip. </p><p>"Have you ever shot anyone?" Issac asked, eyeing the gun. Derek grabbed the two extra magazines, clipping them to his belt too. </p><p>"No, I haven't," Derek said. Both kids sagged a little, and Derek wondered if it was in relief or disappointment. </p><p>After finishing getting dressed, he shoved his feet in the combat boots, lacing them up in his chair. </p><p>"Have you ever been shot at?" Cora asked. </p><p>"Nope," Derek grunted. "You two do know movies are usually not true, right?"</p><p>"Yes they are!" Cora snapped. "Ryan said so. His dad's a cop."</p><p>"Ryan Haigh?" Derek asked, rolling his eyes. Haigh was always puffing his chest out, overexaggerating everything he did. Cora nodded. </p><p>"You shouldn't believe everything Haigh tells you, kiddo."</p><p>He ushers the two kids out of his room, shutting the door behind them before heading for his car. </p><p>He took the Camero to the station and switched it for a cruiser before heading for the hospital. It was around 8:30 by the time he got there, so he headed for the nurse's station. </p><p>"Can I help you?" A tanned skin woman asked. Her hair was curly and pulled up high on her head, out of her face. </p><p>"Yeah, I'm with the kid," Derek said. "Last name Novak."</p><p>She nodded, typing away at her computer. Derek tries to ignore the shouting of the people coming off whatever drug they were in here for. </p><p>"I just need an update," Derek said. </p><p>"Well, it looks like the withdrawal symptoms are worsening. We have him on a heart monitor, and we're checking in on him every half hour or so. So far, the medication seems to be working, but all we can really do is wait."</p><p>"Okay, thank you."</p><p>She nodded and Derek took off towards Mischief's room. Boyd was in the chair. Both of them were watching TV, though Mischief was fidgety. </p><p>"Boyd," he greeted with a nod. He looked up with a small smile. He stood up, looking at the kid. </p><p>"We'll be right outside, okay?" </p><p>The kid only nodded, rubbing at his arms. Derek looked away, leading Boyd out of the room to talk in the hallway. </p><p>"He's antsy," he said. "Threw up a couple times, can't seem to sit still. He keeps saying he'll get into trouble if he doesn't go home but he won't tell me where home is."</p><p>Derek pinched his nose and sighed. "Okay, tomorrow let's try to connect any known traffickers in the area. The kid got the coke from someone, so the sooner we figure out who the sooner we can catch them."</p><p>Boyd nodded and headed out. Derek made his way back inside, followed by the nurse with Mischief's medicine. </p><p>"I don't want that," Mischief snapped when she set the little paper cup down in front of him. </p><p>"Its going to make you feel better," the nurse said. Derek dropped into the chair, watching Mischief glare at the nurse, refusing the medicine. </p><p>"I said I don't want it," he repeated, going to shove the cup away. Derek leaned forward, snatching his wrist up and not releasing it as the kid pulled. "Let go of me!"</p><p>"Take your medicine," Derek demanded. The nurse walked out when Derek nodded for her to go. The door shut behind her, but Derek didn't let go of Mischief's hand. </p><p>"Let go!"</p><p>"Knock it off," Derek snapped. The kid yanked at his arm again and Derek finally released it. "Either you take your medicine or I grab a funnel and force you to take it."</p><p>"You can't do that!" Mischief shouted, glaring at Derek. </p><p>"I can," Derek lied. "You're detoxing, which means you're gonna be in a lot of pain without it."</p><p>Mischief glared at him some more before turning to the cup of pills. The room was silent while he took the pills, swallowing water with each pill before dropping the cup on the table. </p><p>"Happy?"</p><p>Derek leaned back in his chair, huffing. "Sure," he said. "Now, how about you get some sleep."</p><p>"I'm not tired," Mischief said petulantly. Derek raised an eyebrow and the kid flushed before turning away. "I don't want to be here."</p><p>"I'm sure you don't," Derek said. "But until you're clean, you gotta stay here."</p><p>"I don't need to get clean," Mischief grumbled. "You're not my boss, you can't tell me what to do."</p><p>"Do you know what Heroine is?" Derek asked. Mischief scoffed, burrowing into the bed. </p><p>"Its an opioid," Derek continued. "It suppresses things like your blood pressure, heart rate, body temperature and respiration."</p><p>The kid looked down at his lap, picking st his fingers. Derek continued. He didn't think anyone ever sat the kid down to tell him this shit -he knew whoever got him on it sure as hell didn't. </p><p>"Its why you're so antsy now," he said. "Heroine makes you feel good, doesn't it? Makes it so you're not so anxious."</p><p>The kid's chin wobbled and he wiped at his nose again. He was probably feeling very anxious right now. </p><p>Derek just powered through. "On top of the Heroine in your system, you're also dealing with coke. Now, I'm sure you know what that is, right? You had enough of it in your bag."</p><p>Mischief said nothing. Derek didn't expect him to. "Now, Cocaine isn't an opioid, but it can work similarly."</p><p>Derek wasn't the sugar coating type. The kid needed to know what he was using. He could tell the kid was smart, beyond the street smarts, Derek could tell he could pick things up fast. If his school records was anything to go by. He had straight As all through elementary school.</p><p>"It elevates your dopamine levels and disrupts your reward circuits," he said. "Which means you're less sensitive to dopamine, meaning you need more coke to get it."</p><p>"What's dopamine?"</p><p>"Its a chemical in your brain that makes you happy," Derek said. "The more coke you use, the harder it is for things to make you happy."</p><p>Derek leaned forward so he was resting on his knees. "You already know that, though, hmm?" He asked. "You can tell you're not as happy unless you're high, right?"</p><p>Mischief sniffled again, this time wiping at his eyes, where tears were forming. </p><p>"But the difference between Heroine and Cocaine is that the more you use Cocaine, the more you need. And that leads to an overdose."</p><p>"I'm not going to overdose," Mischief snapped through tears. </p><p>"I know," Derek nodded. "Because you're going to stay here and get clean."</p><p>Mischief scowled, slapping the empty pill cup off the table with a yell. "I want to leave!"</p><p>Derek just cocked an eyebrow. Mischief glared, but it broke when more tears filled his eyes. Derek's face softened a bit and he sighed. </p><p>"Please let me leave," Mischief begged through tears. "I have to go home."</p><p>"You have to stay here for two weeks," Derek said. "But you're not going back to wherever it is you came from."</p><p>"You can't keep me here!" He shouted, this time throwing his cup of water across the room. It spilled water and ice across the floor, and the kid sobbed before burying himself under the covers to cry. </p><p>Derek got up and went to the bathroom to grab the trash can and a couple paper towels to clean up, letting the kid cry himself to sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You guys really seemed to like this story and I'm really glad! Here's chapter two!</p><p>Now I've never dealt with withdrawal personally or anything like that, so I'm googling a lot, which means some of this might not be factually accurate. On top of that I watch a lot of crime shows, but when it comes to this kind of stuff in writing I draw a lot of blanks, so if I mess up at all I'm sorry. </p><p>But I hope you like this chapter! Let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mischief woke up an hour later, grabbing the small pan a nurse had brought in and throwing up. He was shaking quite a bit. Derek got up, grabbing a cup and filling it with water in the sink and grabbing toilet paper. </p><p>He was crying when Derek returned, arms wrapped around his stomach. Derek helped him clean up silently. </p><p>"I don't feel good," Mischief cried, trembling on the bed. He was sweating, body tense. </p><p>"I know," Derek said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Mischief whined, falling onto his side and sobbing into his sheets. "You've got twenty more minutes before you can get more medicine."</p><p>"My stomach hurts," Mischief continued, nearing wailing volumes. He was shaking so hard Derek was surprised he didn't hear bones clacking together. </p><p>"C-can't I just have- have a little?"</p><p>"No, you can't," Derek shook his head. Mischief just cried harder. </p><p>"I just want a little!" He sobbed. "Please just a little it hurts!"</p><p>Derek really couldn't stomach this. He kept imagining Cora in his position, crying for something he never should've been exposed to in the first place. </p><p>"No-"</p><p>Mischief flailed, shouting through the tears. Derek quickly grabbed him by the shoulders, pressing him into the pillow. </p><p>"I want it! You can't keep me here! You can't! Let me go!"</p><p>Derek held onto him to keep him  from hurting himself, pressing the button beside the bed for a nurse while Mischief sobbed and begged and thrashed. </p><p>The nurse came in just as Mischief groaned. Derek let him up just as he threw up again, missing the bucket and soiling his bedding. </p><p>"Oh, sweetheart," the nurse sighed, moving over to him. Mischief sobbed, yanking his shoulder away when she reached for him. </p><p>"Come on, let's get cleaned up," Derek said, pulling the blankets off. Mischief shakily got out of bed, using the IV stand to support himself. </p><p>The nurse took care of the bedding while Derek took Mischief into the bathroom to brush his teeth. </p><p>"Do you want a bath?" Derek asked softly. Mischief was shaking so hard he had to sit on the toilet. This was the worst of it, Derek knew. In a couple days he'd start to feel better, and by day ten, he'd be clean of both drugs. </p><p>"I want to go home," he sobbed. Derek shut the door, locking the two of them inside the bathroom before moving to the tub and turning the water on. </p><p>Mischief sat on the toilet, rocking back and forth as he held his stomach, crying loudly and snotting everywhere. </p><p>Derek didn't fill the bath too high. "Hop in, the bath will make you feel good."</p><p>He gave the kid privacy to get into the bath, and Derek made sure the IV stand was close to the side before stepping out. </p><p>The nurse had changed the bedding, a pill cup and a new cup of water on the table. </p><p>"Is there any way he could be sedated?" Derek asked when the nurse was close enough. Derek wanted to stay close to the bathroom. </p><p>"I can check with his doctor," the nurse said. "For now just have him take his medicine and try to get him to sleep."</p><p>Derek nodded and she left. He found a spare hospital gown and hung it on the doornob. </p><p>When Mischief was finished and dressed, Derek helped him to the bed again. He pushed the pill cup towards him. </p><p>Mischief didn't argue, just reached with trembling fingers towards the cup. He took the pills one at a time, swallowing each with water. He was still sniffling and his cheeks were still wet. </p><p>He slept for two hours, which was the longest he had in the two nights Derek had been here with him. </p><p>The nurse came back with an okay from the doctor, and explained it was a very mild sedative that wouldn't effect Mischief's medications at all. She added it into the tube connected to the IV bag while he slept. </p><p>When he woke up again, it was because he had to go to the bathroom. He didn't try to sleep again, but the sedative and the pills were helping. His tremors were still pretty bad, but he didn't seem to be in any pain or have any cravings. </p><p>"How long have you been a cop?" He asked softly, laying on his side to face Derek. </p><p>"Two years," Derek answered. </p><p>"I wanted to be a cop," Mischief said, picking at a loose thread of his hospital blanket. </p><p>"Did you change your mind?"</p><p>Mischief shook his head, the tremors coming and going every couple of seconds. They were probably exhausting. His knees were pressed into his chest, nose buried in the blankets. </p><p>"Deuk said cops were power abusers," he said softly. </p><p>"Some of them," Derek agreed with a nod. He couldn't count how many corrupt cops there were in Beacon County alone, let alone anywhere else. "Is Deuk your guardian?"</p><p>Mischief looked at him, then nodded and looked back down. "He's probably really mad."</p><p>He sniffled. Derek leaned forward. It was the most Mischief has ever said about his guardian since Derek and Boyd picked him up. </p><p>"Does he hurt you when he's mad?" Mischief's face scrunched up and he buried it further into the blanket. "Hey," he urged, patting the bed beside Mischief to grab his attention. "You're safe here, he can't get you."</p><p>Mischief just sniffed, wiping st his nose with the back of his hand. </p><p>"Can you try sleeping?"</p><p>"No," Mischief shook his head. "I'm too cold."</p><p>Derek nodded, getting to his feet and going to the small closet at the end of the room. He pulled down a couple more blankets and brought them over. </p><p>He folded each blanket in half before draping it over Mischief. The kid was still trembling, but he wasn't curled in on himself so tightly anymore. </p><p>"What's gonna happen when this is over?" Mischief asked, eyes drooping a bit. </p><p>"Social services will find you a foster home," Derek said. "You'll see a therapist and get a sober buddy."</p><p>"But what about Deucalion?" He asked, looking at Derek with wide brown eyes. </p><p>"He won't hurt you," Derek promised. "I'm gonna keep you safe, okay?"</p><p>Mischief nodded, burrowing. Derek waited a moment before stepping out of the room to make a phone call.  </p><p>"Hale, whats up?" Boyd answered after three rings. </p><p>"I need you to run a name through the database," Derek said, keeping an eye on his surroundings. It was late enough that just two nurses were at the station, the halls empty. "Deucalion."</p><p>"Kid finally started talking?"</p><p>"Yeah, check it out and get back to me as soon as possible," Derek said. The name was really familiar, but Derek couldn't place it. If he was in any system, the alias would get an alert. </p><p>He hung up and returned to the room. Mischief was asleep again, the tremors not bad while he slept. </p><p>Derek settled into the chair beside him. He had another five hours with Mischief. When the nurse came in to check vitals, Derek dismissed himself to get a coffee from down the hall. </p><p>When he returned, Mischief was still asleep damp hair sticking to his skin. It was short, growing out from a buzz cut.</p><p>Derek sipped at his coffee, scrolling on his phone. He didn't expect Mischief to sleep long, so he wasn't surprised when the kid started crying, legs kicking under the covers. He looked up from his phone, realizing he was having a nightmare. </p><p>Derek reached forward, ready to wake him up, but his hand worked on its own, resting on the crown of his head and scratching softly at his scalp. </p><p>It took a while, but the nightmare passed and Mischief stayed asleep. Derek pulled his hand back, finishing his cup of coffee. </p><p>His phone rang, Vernon Boyd flashing across the screen. That was fast. </p><p>He got up from his seat, making his way out of the room before answering. </p><p>"Deucalion's real name is Gideon Emery," Boyd said, forgoing the pleasantries. "He's bad news, Hale. Cops have been trying to nail him for years."</p><p>"With Mischief, we might be able to," Derek said, mind working quickly through the possible scenarios. "If Mischief is close to him, he might know enough to get him locked away."</p><p>"Which also means the kid isn't safe," Boyd agreed. "Deucalion will want to keep the kid quiet, however he can."</p><p>Derek nodded, glancing into the room. Mischief still fast asleep. </p><p>"I'm going to call social services, and get something worked out. Get the kid to a safe house or something."</p><p>"What about his detox?" Boyd asked. "He's not even halfway through it. He needs to stay monitored."</p><p>"Let me worry about that," Derek said, already making a mental list of people to call. Mrs. Blake, his mom and Laura were already at the forefront when he hung up with Boyd. </p><p>He would have to get ahold of Mrs. Blake in the morning, so his mom was the first one he called. </p><p>"Hon? Everything okay?" Talia asked, voice rough with sleep. It was barely one in the morning. </p><p>"New development in the case," Derek said, keeping his eye on the bedroom the kid was sleeping in. "If I got the okay from the right people, would you be willing to foster the kid?"</p><p>"Is he in trouble?"</p><p>"Yeah," Derek said. "He's not ready to leave the hospital, but he's got ties to someone willing to kill to keep himself out of prison."</p><p>"Okay," Talia said, sounding wide awake now. </p><p>"Laura would need to be home," he continued. "He needs someone to monitor him, and I'm going to talk with his doctor, the social worker and the sheriff in the morning."</p><p>"I'll make up a room for him," Talia said. </p><p>"Is there any way you can get a twin into my room?" Derek asked. It would be easier to keep an eye on the kid. </p><p>"Yeah, I can call Peter to help."</p><p>"Okay, move whatever you need to, I have to go," he said with a huff. He hung up and moved to the nurse's station. </p><p>The curly haired nurse from the night before was there. She smiled up at Derek from her spot at the desk. </p><p>"Who's head nurse?" He asked. </p><p>"That would be me," she said. "What can I do for you, deputy?"</p><p>"Novak's room is now off limits to everyone," Derek said. "I'd like you to make sure whoever comes into his room to check on him be the same person for the shift, and let the deputy that relieves me know which nurse that is."</p><p>"I can do that," she said, nodding her head with a stern look.</p><p>"I'm also going to need to talk to Dr. Dunbar as soon as possible," he said before heading into the room to look after Mischief. </p><p>He got a call from the sheriff at around four in the morning, and soon after that, he called Mrs. Blake on her office phone. He was grateful she was in so early, and that she was open to taking Mischief from the hospital. </p><p>Reyes came in at five, while social services, the precinct and a judge ironed everything out. </p><p>Mischief was also awake when Reyes walked in, scowling at her. His tremors were back, but for the most part he was fairly calm. The head nurse came in to deliver medication and to give him his sedative. </p><p>Then the doctor came in. Reyes and Derek stepped out of the room, and Derek let the both of them know what was going on. </p><p>Dr. Dunbar agreed to the discharge knowing that Laura would be administering the medications and keeping an eye on him for the remainder of his detox. </p><p>He was sure everyone was on board for many reasons. The Hale name had a big impact on their decision, as well as Gideon Emery, and the child's wellbeing. </p><p>At around breakfast, Talia and Mrs. Blake walked down the hall. Derek was near dead on his feet, but he didn't want to leave the kid yet. </p><p>"Hello, Mischief," Mrs. Blake smiled, walking in with Talia beside her and Derek and Reyes behind. Reyes shut the door behind them, staying put while Derek walked further into the room with the social worker and his mom. </p><p>"This is Mrs. Hale," Mrs. Blake introduced. Mischief was bundled under the blankets, shivering and sniffling. He looked absolutely miserable. "She's agreed to let you stay at her place with deputy Hale."</p><p>The kid looked from Derek to Talia, who smiled down at him. "Its nice to meet you, Mischief."</p><p>Mischief just looked at her before his eyes found Derek's. Derek stepped to the other side of the bed, sitting on the edge. </p><p>"You're going to be safe there," Derek promised. "I live there too, and there's going to be a cruiser outside the whole time."</p><p>"I can leave?" He asked. </p><p>"You're still going to get clean," Derek said sternly. "But you can do it at my house, and there will be a nurse there who will take care of you too."</p><p>Mischief sagged a bit in his spot, sniffling. The head nurse came with discharge papers and a wheelchair. </p><p>Because Talia was now his legal guardian for the time being, she signed the papers while Mischief got into the chair. Derek laid a blanket over him when the kid started shivering. </p><p>There was nothing for him to change into, but Derek was sure he had some old clothes from middle school in the basement somewhere. </p><p>Talia walked beside Derek, Reyes taking the lead, with Mrs. Blake and the head nurse in the middle, pushing Mischief. </p><p>"He doesn't like being touched," Derek said softly to his mother, keeping his eyes on the people they passed. "Cora and Issac should be okay, but just in case, Boyd is going to take them to and from school."</p><p>Talia smiled, patting his shoulder as they squeezed into the elevator. Mischief was bouncing a leg, panting a bit. </p><p>The car waiting out in the front belonged to Talia. Mrs. Blake smiled at the deputies before kneeling in front of Mischief. </p><p>"I'm going to leave my phone number with Mrs. Hale," she said. "If you need anything you call me okay?" </p><p>Mischief nodded, sniffling. The head nurse helped him into the car, which he did not like, and then Derek got into the passenger seat with Talia behind the wheel. </p><p>"I'll follow you home," Reyes said, already heading to her squad car.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New update!!</p><p>I just want to clear the air a little with this story. I know I've tagged this as under age, but that has more to do with what happened with Stiles before Derek.</p><p>In the book, Derek is 25 and Stiles is 13. Although I have no problem with underage, 13 is way to fucking young. 16/17 is the youngest ill go with underage. </p><p>So, Derek is not attracted to Stiles at ALL!! There is no physical or romantic or sexual attraction from Derek. He views Stiles the way he should. Stiles is a child, he views him the same way he views Cora. </p><p>Derek won't find Stiles attractive in ANY way until Stiles is MUCH older. Think of their budding relationship of that of an uncle nephew situation, or older and younger brother. </p><p>I was assaulted as a child (much younger than 13), and I know many other people have too. I'm aware people write underage as a coping mechanism or to heal (I do, so I understand) but I refuse to write underage with anything under the age of 15. </p><p>I just want to make it extremely clear as the book progresses that Derek is not a pedophile and does not view Stiles in any way that would made him so. </p><p>Thats not to say Stiles doesn't view Derek as being attractive. Because let's be real, I'm sure there are plenty of 13 year olds simping for Dylan O'Brian, which is completely fine. It becomes a problem when adults find children attractive in any way. </p><p>Anyway, sorry for the rant. I hope you guys like the chapter! If you have any questions about Stiles' and Derek's relationship in the coming chapters definitely ask and ill answer!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek lead Mischief up the stairs and to his room. He hadn't seen what Talia and Peter had done. They'd moved Derek's dresser to the foot of his bed, turning his queen sized bed so it pressed to the wall, and put the twin on the other side. </p><p>It was an adjustment getting Mischief settled. Cora was in charge of finding clothes, and Talia made food while Derek had Mischief climb into bed, hospital socks exchanged for a pair of his own. </p><p>Laura came by after her shift, having stopped by the pharmacy to pick up Mischief's prescription. She was up to date on what was happening with him, and surprisingly, Mischief seemed to warm to her a little more than he did to the nurses at the hospital. </p><p>He slept until Talia brought up a change of clothes and a sandwich. Derek had a glass of water for him. </p><p>He changed in the bathroom, putting on jeans and a Henley on. No use wearing a uniform at home, even if he was technically still on the job. </p><p>"Why don't you get some sleep," Talia said softly. Derek was swaying where he stood in the doorway of his room, arms crossed over his chest. </p><p>Laura had brought a chair in to sit beside Mischief's bed, checking on him. Derek just nodded, walking into the room. He usually put his gun in a safe in his closet when he was home, but he ended up with it in his bedside table drawer, where he could get to it easier. </p><p>Sheriff gave him the go ahead to work on the case from home. They needed to build a strong enough case against Deucalion before they arrested him, and Derek would have plenty of time to work through it while Mischief was living with him. </p><p>He laid on the bed over his blankets, on his back with his ankles and arms crossed. He turned his head to catch Mischief's honey whiskey brown eyes. </p><p>"Wake me up if you need anything, okay?" He said. "Or ask Laura."</p><p>Mischief was on his side, curled under the blankets. His eyes moved from Derek to Laura, then back again before nodding. </p><p>Laura stayed with Mischief for a couple hours while Derek slept, leaving to grab lunch for both Mischief and Derek before leaving for her job at the hospital. </p><p>Today seemed to be a better day than yesterday, though Mischief was still sick and shaky, he didn't ask for drugs quite as often as he had before. </p><p>Derek sat with his feet hanging off the bed, Mischief sitting in the middle of his bed with his legs crossed and the blanket draped around him. </p><p>With Derek's gun now in the bedside table drawer, the safe had room for Mischief's medicine. Talia had taken Isaac's medicine from the bathroom cupboard to hide as well in the off chance that the kid tried getting high on Isaac's Prozac. </p><p>"Whwn can I take my pills?" Mischief asked once the two finished eating. It was a step up from demanding Derek give him Haroine. </p><p>"A few more hours," Derek said. The doctor had prescribed half the dose twice a day. Normally someone suffering from withdrawal got it once and was fine for the whole day, but because of Mischief's age, they made the decision to split his dosage. </p><p>It seemed to work, he got bad around the six hour mark, and from the looks of it, he was having symptoms. </p><p>"What all am I taking?" Mischief asked. Derek wondered if he was asking go take his mind off of things, so Derek grabbed his medical folder the doctor sent home for Laura and flipped through to his medications list. </p><p>"Buprenorphine, Propranolol and a steroid to help with the nausea," Derek read off. He had a vague understanding of what the medicine did. </p><p>"Can I see?" </p><p>Derek closed the folder and handed it over before pulling his phone out. He Googled the medication while Mischief flipped the file open and began reading. </p><p>It seemed to help him not think about the symptoms as he read over his file, fingers tapping against the pages. Derek wasn't sure if it was wise for him to be looking over his own files, but maybe the kid would get a better understanding of what exactly he went through if he could see it. </p><p>"Are you going to lock Deuk away?" Mischief asked after a while, looking up at Derek. </p><p>"We want to," Derek said with a nod. "We need witness testimonies and evidence first though."</p><p>Mischief was silent for a while, picking at the corner of a piece of paper. </p><p>"Was the coke enough evidence?"</p><p>Derek gave a small smile, but shook his head. "No, it helps though."</p><p>Again, Mischief stayed quiet, thinking. One of the side effects of withdrawal of both the Haroine and the Cocaine was slower thought and difficulty processing, but Derek didn't think that was it. The boy was too sharp, even through the haze of the withdrawals. </p><p>"Can I help?"</p><p>Derek lifted an eyebrow. </p><p>"If I told you, would that help put him in jail?"</p><p>"It would put him in prison," Derek corrected. For a thirteen year old, the kid was mature -but he had to be. Kids like Mischief grew up fast or got killed. </p><p>Derek wasn't thrilled to be able to have such an adult conversation with someone Cora's age. Mischief should've been cognitively a thirteen year old, but instead he was suffering from drug abuse, had been sexually and physically abused, and Derek wouldn't doubt psychology. </p><p>The kid was going to need a lot of help after this. Probably for the rest of his life, and how was that fair? Derek wanted to put Gideon Emery on death row. Wanted him dead for ever indangering a child. </p><p>And if he did that to Mischief, what was to say there weren't ten more thirteen year olds addicted to the stuff Deucalion made them run?</p><p>"And, and then he won't come after me?" Mischief asked, not looking up. </p><p>"No, we'll make sure no one ever hurts you," Derek said. "You'll go to a nice family who will look after you, and put you through school, and help you find a job."</p><p>He hoped. Derek would make sure of it. The kid had been through enough, he didn't want him to slip through the cracks of a corrupt system. Derek would probably lose his job if he found out Mischief survived all that he had on to end up in a foster home that took in kids just for the monthly check. </p><p>But then again, Mischief had basically agreed to testify against Deucalion, which meant his people would be after him. They'd have to send him to the FBI, and they'd set him up in witness protection, so maybe he wouldn't have it so bad. </p><p>When it was time, Derek got the medicine from the safe in his closet and handed him the three pills. Mischief took them one at a time, swallowed water with loud gulps and then settled into the bed again. </p><p>Derek laid down as well, but he didn't sleep. He pulled his laptop onto his lap, logging into his server at the precinct to get started on the case. </p><p>Boyd sent over everything he could, and he got files from the hospital and Mrs. Blake. He was deep in a research pit when Mischief woke up with a start, flinging the blankets off and running out of the room. </p><p>Derek followed him into the bathroom, seeing him hunched over the toilet, both hands gripping the rim and face hidden from view as he threw up the food he'd eaten for lunch. </p><p>He sobbed into the bowl when he finished and Derek grabbed some toilet paper, kneeling down beside Mischief and wiping his mouth. </p><p>It surprised Derek when Mischief leaned against him, curled in on himself as he shook and cried on the bathroom floor. Derek wrapped his arms around his small frame, rocking the two of them. </p><p>"Its alright," Derek promised, running a hand through his short hair. Mischief held onto the arm over his chest for dear life, burying his face into Derek's shoulder. </p><p>"Everything hurts," he sobbed. "I just want it over with."</p><p>"I know," Derek sighed. "You're three days down. This is the worst of it, and then you'll start to feel better, I promise."</p><p>Mischief just choked on a sob. After a while, Derek managed to get Mischief to his feet, his limbs shaky. </p><p>Mischief reached for him again once both were on their feet, burying his face in Derek's chest. The kid was a foot shorter than Derek, and skin and bones at that. </p><p>It was easy to reach under his arms and lift him into the air. He curled his arms and legs around Derek, crying into his shoulder as Derek carried the thirteen year old from the bathroom. </p><p>It was awkward with his long limbs, but he managed to get Mischief to the bedroom and settle him under the covers. </p><p>He set the file on the desk Talia had moved to make room for the twin bed, before sitting down on the chair Laura had brought in. </p><p>Mischief was still crying as he curled himself into the blankets, back facing Derek, so Derek reached out, placing his hand on him. </p><p>Mischief didn't pull away, so Derek rubbed soothing circles into his back, hoping it would help the kid fall asleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Posting this tonight so I can wake up to comments! Let me know what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mischief woke up screaming just as Derek was settling for the night. It was almost midnight. He thrashed, knocking the sheets off. </p><p>Derek was up in seconds, collecting the teenager in his arms to keep him from hurting himself. </p><p>"Shh, shh, it's okay, it was just a dream," Derek hushed. The bedroom door burst open, and Derek looked up to see a disheveled Laura breathing heavily, eyes heavy with sleep. </p><p>"Its okay," Derek told her softly, feeling Mischief cling to his shirt as he cried. "Just a nightmare."</p><p>Laura looked at Mischief, eyes softening in sympathy before nodding. "Call if you need me."</p><p>When the door was shut again, Derek gave Mischief all his attention, rubbing his back and shushing him softly. </p><p>He was shaking, sobbing and his nose was running. Derek had no tissues in the room, so he handed Mischief the bottom corner of the blanket. </p><p>He looked at it before wiping his nose, pressing into Derek's chest. He continues to cry, deep hiccuping breaths that tire him out quickly. </p><p>He falls asleep sitting up and resting against Derek. Derek had no idea what to do, wonders if he's a light sleeper. </p><p>He tests it, shifts a little. Mischief doesn't stir, so Derek grabs the back of his head and leans forward so his head doesn't fall back. </p><p>When Mischief's securely laid down, Derek slowly pulls his hand from the back of his head, and then tugs the blanket over him again. </p><p>Before going to bed again, Derek decides to walk around the house. He's still in his jeans, but doesn't bother changing. He starts on the second floor, checking windows in each room. </p><p>He's done it so often that no one wakes up when he opens their door. Even Issac doesn't stir when Derek crosses the room to shut and lock his window. </p><p>Down to the first floor, he checks windows and the back door. He steps out onto the front porch, the night still hot. He scowls across the yard, counting down the days until fall. </p><p>He sees the cruiser parked beside his Camero, so he steps down, trudging bare foot across the grass. </p><p>"Hale," Haigh greets. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"</p><p>Derek dropped his arms against the window frame, ducking his head in to see Rodriguez sitting shotgun. </p><p>"Just making rounds," Derek said. "You guys need water or anything?"</p><p>"Nah, we're stocked," Rodriguez grinned, lifting up a full gas station bag of snacks and drinks. Derek smirks at him. Rodriguez was the new rookie, which meant Derek no longer got the grunt work. He felt for Rodriguez but the kid was taking every case with a smile. </p><p>"How long til the kid gets to talkin'?" Haigh asked. Derek shrugged, still leaning over. </p><p>"He's got a few more days," Derek said easily. "He talks when he wants to. When he's healthy, I'll get a statement."</p><p>Haigh wasn't his favorite. He walked the line a lot, and Derek knew if the other deputies weren't around to keep him in check, Haigh would let a lot slide. Or worse, turn into every cop kids on the street were scared of upsetting. A power abuser, as Mischief had said. </p><p>"You've got my number," Derek said, straightening up. He didn't follow it up with anything and walked back into the house. He locked the front door and made his way upstairs to his room. </p><p>Mischief was on his side, facing the wall, still fast asleep. Derek finally climbs out of his pants, stepping into a pair of track shorts before crawling into the bed, dropping onto his stomach and sighing heavily. </p><p>He sleeps the rest of the night, but wakes up early when Mischief does. </p><p>"Can I take my pills now?" Mischief asked. Derek blinked his eyes open, glancing at him. Mischief is small on the bed, legs crossed and blanket draped over his head. He's rocking a little, dark bruises under his eyes. </p><p>Derek climbs out of bed and rubs at his eyes, making his way to the closet. He keeps his back to Mischief as he punches in the code, then takes the dosage he needs out and locks it back up again. </p><p>"Do you want to try and eat something?" Derek asked, dropping the three colorful pills into Mischief's shaky hand. </p><p>"I'm just gonna throw it back up," Mischief sniffled, taking one pill at a time like he always did before chasing it down with water. </p><p>"I'll bring up crackers, you can try a couple and if you feel sick you can leave them on the desk," Derek said. Mischief only nodded so Derek made his way down stairs. </p><p>Talia and Laura were already in the kitchen, coffee going. "How is he?" Laura asked. </p><p>"The same," Derek sighed, grabbing a sleeve of saltines. "He should be calming down in a couple days."</p><p>"I'm going to check in him before my shift," Laura said. "Anything I should know?"</p><p>"He doesn't like being touched," Derek said, already heading up the stairs. He hands the sleeve to Mischief, one end already open before he dug through his drawers for clean clothes. </p><p>Mischief was in a pair of Derek's old pajamas, and there was a stack of his old clothes on top of his dresser for him, though Mischief seemed perfectly fine staying in the same outfit. </p><p>"I'm going to be across the hall," Derek said. "Laura and Mrs. Hale are downstairs so if you need anything just yell and one of us will come, okay?"</p><p>"Okay," Mischief said, bringing out a cracker to nibble on. Derek  walked across the hall and shut the bathroom door. </p><p>Usually he locked it, but he wanted to be able to rush out of he heard Mischief, so he stripped quickly and jumped into the shower, in case Cora or Issac decided to barge in without knocking -like they tended to do. </p><p>It was still early morning so he hoped he would get privacy. But halfway through the shower the door swung open. </p><p>"Out," Derek said, not bothering to check who it was. </p><p>"I gotta pee!" Issac whined. Derek sighed when he heard the familiar trickle. He continued washing, waiting for Issac to finish up. </p><p>"Shut the door!" Derek yelled when the door swung open and Issac ran out. He didn't come back. </p><p>Derek turned the water off, snatching up the towel to wrap around himself before stepping out of the shower. He shut the door before drying off and getting dressed. </p><p>He walked downstairs to grab some breakfast -a piece of peanut butter toast- before filling a mug with coffee. </p><p>He finished the toast on the way up the stairs to check on Mischief. </p><p>"What the fuc-"</p><p>Derek stepped into the room to see bedding and clothes liter the room. His eyes instantly dropped to his nightstand when he noticed Mischief wasn't in bed, but the drawer was shut. </p><p>Mischief let out a frustrated yell in the closet, thumping noises following. Derek dropped the coffee on the desk before yanking the door open wider to see Mischief on the floor, safe between his legs. </p><p>He was sobbing in frustration, kicking at it while tugging at the handle. </p><p>"Hey, hey, stop that!" Derek grabbed him from under the arms, yanking him to his feet. Mischief screeched, kicking and flailing as Derek turned away from the closet, kicking it closed. </p><p>"No! Let me go! Don't touch me!" Mischief screamed. Derek dropped him on the bed, and the kid sobbing as he covered his face with shaky hands. </p><p>Derek sighed, kneeling in front of the bed, careful not to touch. "Its not working!" Mischief sobbed. </p><p>Derek could hear Cora and Issac downstairs with Talia sounding worried and maybe a little frightened at Mischief's tantrum. </p><p>"Its not working! I need more, Derek!" Mischief sobbed, panting and sobbing as he shook. </p><p>"You can't-"</p><p>"No!" Mischief interrupted. "Please I want my pills! Derek, I want them I hurt!"</p><p>Derek clenched his jaw. He couldn't give in though, even with Mischief screaming and sobbing. </p><p>Derek got to his feet, climbing onto the bed beside Mischief. He rested his back against the wall, planning on sitting it out when Mischief climbed onto Derek's lap. </p><p>"I don't want to do this anymore," he cried, knees on either side of Derek's hips. Derek didn't mind the snot and tears as Mischief buried his face in Derek's shoulder, trembling. </p><p>"I don't wanna do it, I can't do it!" He continued. Derek curled his arms around the kid, hugging him close. </p><p>Mischief only tolerated being held when he was this bad, when the need to be comforted outweighed the aversion to touch. Derek knew the aversion had to do with all he went through. When Mischief got touchy, Derek held him, tried his best to comfort the kid as best he could. </p><p>He didn't know what to do now. Mischief needed professional help, and he was stuck with Derek. He was in pain and all Derek could do was keep him company and drop pills down his throat every six hours. </p><p>"Yes, you can," Derek said softly, running a hand up and down his back. He was sweaty and running hot. He probably was running a fever, but Derek couldn't give him anything for it in fear it'll mess with the medication he was taking already. </p><p>"You're so strong, Mischief," Derek continued, the kid sobbing into his shirt, fisting the material in shaky hands. He shook his head, wiping snot and tears across his shoulder. </p><p>"Yes you are," Derek said. "You're the strongest kid I've ever met."</p><p>Mischief pulled back to look at Derek, hands still fisting his shirt. His face was splotchy and wet, eyes and nose red. </p><p>"You survived three years on your own," he said. "You've been through so much, and you're still here. If you can go through three years, two weeks is nothing."</p><p>"It h-hurts!" He sobbed. </p><p>"I know," Derek sighed. "And its going to hurt for a little while longer, but I know you can make it through this."</p><p>Another sob wracked through his small frame, body trembling. </p><p>"I can't!" He cried. "It hurts everywhere."</p><p>Derek nodded, lifting his fingers up to brush his thumbs across each cheek. Mischief dropped his head. </p><p>"Let's take it one day at a time," Derek suggested. Mischief looked up at him, confusion momentarily quieting his sobs. </p><p>"Youre only detoxing for twenty-four hours," Derek said. "When the twenty-four hours are up, you can decide if you can go another twenty-four hours, and if you can't, that's okay."</p><p>"I want to stop now," Mischief said, sniffling. Derek grabbed a pair of his shorts that were hanging on the edge of the bed from Mischief's search and held it for him. He grabbed it, wiping at his nose. </p><p>"Tomorrow," Derek said. "Its just twenty-four hours, can you do that?"</p><p>Mischief's face crumbles a bit, trying to hold his tears back. "Okay," he says, inhaling before letting a small sob push the air out. </p><p>He dropped his cheek back onto Derek's shoulder, curling up on him. Derek let him, rubbing his back to try and sooth the aches and pains. </p><p>It took a little while to fall asleep, but Derek didn't lay him down on the bed like before, just sat with him. </p><p>There was a soft timid knock on the ajar door and Derek looked over to see Cora chewing on her lip. She looked unsure, shifting from foot to foot before collecting her courage and stepping into the room, careful not to make a sound. </p><p>"Is he okay?" She asked softly. Derek could see Issac trying to peak around her taller frame. </p><p>"No, pumpkin," Derek sighed. "He's sick and in a lot of pain."</p><p>Cora's dark eyes drop to Mischief again, chewing her lip a little roughly. </p><p>"Is he going to be okay?"</p><p>Derek smiled at her and nodded. "He'll be okay," he said. "He just needs time alone."</p><p>"Okay," Cora said, still looking unsure as she walked out of the room. Issac slipped past her before she could shut the door, holding a stuffed bear. </p><p>"He can have this," Issac said in a loud whisper. He set the bear down on the bed beside Mischief's leg. It was a stuffed animal the foster care system gave children when they first arrived. </p><p>Derek smiled at him, taking the bear. "I think he'd like that a lot, thank you."</p><p>Issac nodded with a proud grin. Then he leans in a little. "He helps me when I have nightmares, so many he can help him too."</p><p>Then he leaves and actually shuts the door, the quiet click cutting off the noises from the first floor.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Stiles (Mischief) is gonna start getting better in the next couple chapters, and then we'll get into more backstory, get along with the case and relationship building between baby Stiles and the Hales!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mischief takes to the stuffed bear. When Derek comes to check in on him, Mischief is on his side, blanket covering his trembling form, and the bear is nestled under his chin, arms curled around it. </p><p>Laura checks on him for a while, and they try feeding him more than just the crackers, but the soup stays untouched on the bedside table. </p><p>He's surprised when Stiles asks for his pills at the twenty-four hour mark, holding the bear on his crossed legs. He hasn't gotten out of the bed unless its to throw up or go to the bathroom, which is fine. Derek knows he'll get up when he's ready, so in the mean time, he places the three pills in Mischief's palm. </p><p>Mischief takes them, drinks water and has a couple crackers. Dereks worried the kid is loosing more weight, but Dr. Dunbar had let him know it was normal during the withdrawal to loose his appetite. </p><p>That night, Derek checks the house, like he does every night, and then goes out to see who's on watch outside. </p><p>Its Boyd and Reyes. They talk a bit, mostly about the case and Mischief. Then he goes upstairs and crawls under the covers in a pair of track shorts. </p><p>Mischief is still asleep. He sleeps more than he's awake, which if Derek was in his position, would probably be doing the same thing. The constant tremors and pain is exhausting. </p><p>Derek's in a deep enough sleep that he jolts when someone shakes his shoulder. </p><p>The clock on the bedside table says its not even three in the morning. </p><p>"Der-Derek," Mischief whispers. He shakes Derek again. "Derek I think someone's outside."</p><p>That got Derek up. Mischief stepped back, letting Derek climb out of bed before storming to the window and peaking out into the yard. </p><p>He turned back to Mischief, who's standing in a pair of Derek's old sweat pants, bare feet and a grey t-shirt. </p><p>"Did you see them?" Derek asked, sitting back down on the bed. Mischief stepped closer, their knees almost touching. </p><p>"I saw something," Mischief said. "I went to the bathroom and I saw it."</p><p>"Okay, I'll go check it out, okay?" Derek said, already reaching for his bedside table where he now kept his gun. Mischief nodded, eyes wide. </p><p>"Stay in here, I'll be right back."</p><p>Derek checked the gun, loaded it and walked out of the room. He closed the door behind him, keeping the gun at his side as he made his way to the stairs. </p><p>If someone was outside, Reyes and Boyd would've taken care of it, but on the off chance they didn't see and Mischief had, he wanted to check. </p><p>He opened the front door, stepping out into the heat before looking at the squad car. Boyd opened his door, eyeing the gun. </p><p>"What is it?" Boyd asked from the driveway, already pulling his gun free. Reyes was out and drawing hers as well. Derek stepped off the porch, eyes on the yard's edge. </p><p>"Kid thought he saw someone in the yard," Derek said. The three of them wordlessly made a perimeter check, circling the house with Derek and Reyes going clockwise and Boyd going opposite. </p><p>They don't see anything, but Derek doesn't breathe easy. It's the middle of the night and they're surrounded by forest. It wouldn't be hard to hide, if someone was there. </p><p>"Maybe you guys should come inside," Derek decided when the three of them were back at the cruiser. "If someone is out there, they'll have an easier time breaking in knowing you two are on one side of the house."</p><p>"Sure," Reyes nodded. They go inside and Derek locks the door. </p><p>"Bathroom is next to the kitchen, feel free to raid the fridge, couch fits five."</p><p>"How's the kid?" Reyes asked just before Derek takes the stairs up to the second floor. </p><p>"He's getting better," Derek said. He didn't know how true that was, but he hoped so. </p><p>He opened his bedroom door, setting the gun down on the dresser. Mischief was gone. Derek checked the window, but it was still locked, then he looked under the beds. </p><p>"Mischief," Derek called quietly. He opened the closet door and sighed in relief when he saw the kid on the floor, knees pressed to his chest and hands over his ears. </p><p>"Its okay, kid," Derek said, kneeling down in front of him. Mischief looked up before he unfolded and flung himself at Derek. </p><p>Derek fell back onto his ass, not expecting it, but curled his arms around him in a hug. Derek didn't mind that the kid smelled stale, like sweat and tears. </p><p>"Was anyone there?" Mischief asked, pulling back enough to look Derek in the eyes. It was just light enough to see each other. </p><p>"No one," Derek said. "Reyes and Boyd are downstairs, so you're safe."</p><p>Mischief nodded and climbed to his feet. Derek followed, walking Mischief back to his bed and tucking him in. </p><p>"I'm sorry," Mischief said once he was settled. </p><p>"For what?" Derek asked, sitting on the edge of his own bed. Mischief pulled the bear back under his chin, curling himself around the stuffed animal. </p><p>"For freaking out," he said. "And waking you up."</p><p>Derek shook his head, grabbing the gun off his dresser at the end of his bed and returning it to his drawer. </p><p>"You don't need to be sorry about that," Derek said. "Try to get some sleep." Mischief nodded and rolled over. </p><p>*-*</p><p>Three days later, while Derek was downstairs making dinner with Talia, Mischief came down. </p><p>He was fidgety, eyes flickering this way and that as he stepped into the dining room. He had been doing much better and had even kept down the soup Talia had made him. </p><p>"Hey, kid," Derek grinned. "You hungry?"</p><p>Talia smiles at him from beside Derek. Laura looks up from her spot at the table helping Issac with his homework. Cora is grinning like Mischief is made of chocolate. </p><p>But Mischief just looks at Derek, nods and shifts on his feet at the attention. Derek waves him over and he easily makes his way to Derek's side. </p><p>"We're making spaghetti," Derek said, stiring the sauce while Talia strains the noodles. "Do you wanna try plain noodles?"</p><p>Mischief nods again, so they leave a small portion of noodles out of the meat sauce and brings everyone's bowls to the table. Mischief carries his own bowl, and settles into the chair beside Derek, away from everyone else. </p><p>"I'm Issac!"</p><p>Mischief looks up at him, blinking. </p><p>"Say hi," Derek says lowly, head turned so only Mischief can hear him. His brown eyes look up at Derek before looking back at Issac. </p><p>"Hi," he manages before dropping his eyes back to his food. Derek knows the kid has two more days before they take him to the hospital to get checked out, and he's doing really well comparatively. </p><p>They'll have to talk to him soon too. Derek -hell the whole department- wanted to get something to stick on Deucalion.</p><p>Derek knew the FBI would get involved at some point -Deucalion worked across boarders, which technically would make the case their jurisdiction- so he wanted to get as much out of the kid as possible. </p><p>Being the older of the two, Cora keeps quiet, barely sparing glances Mischief's way. Mischief is definitely giving off 'don't talk to me' vibes, which only Issac seems to miss, but he's also eight. </p><p>Mischief takes maybe two or three bites, and then just plays with the rest of his food. The rest of the table eats, Talia and Laura in conversation, Issac speaking to anyone who will listen. </p><p>"You don't have to finish it," Derek says quietly, leaning over to Mischief, who looks a little relieved as he pushes the bowl away. </p><p>"Can I go back to bed?" He asks in a voice only loud enough for Derek. He nods and Mischief gets to his feet and disappears up the stairs. </p><p>"He's looking much better," Laura says when she's sure the kid is out of hearing range. "Once he's up to it, we need to bring up his weight."</p><p>Derek nods in agreement. The kid was skin and bones. Had no muscle mass. It would take a long time to get him healthy again, but Derek would get him started in the right direction until a foster family could continue. </p><p>The following two days showed more progress. Mischief came down for dinner both days, ate a little, and seemed to be getting color back into his skin. </p><p>He took his meds, showered, and was starting to talk more to others. Usually they were one worded replies, but no one pushed for more. Progress was progress no matter how small. </p><p>Talia went with Derek and Mischief to the hospital to talk with Dr. Dunbar. As acting guardian, she needed to. </p><p>"You're looking a lot better," Dr. Dunbar said when he came into the room. Mischief is back in a hospital gown, sitting on an exam table. </p><p>Talia sits in the chair set beside the bed for family members, and Derek stands behind the doctor, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. </p><p>Dr. Dunbar gives him a routine check up, ears, eyes, nose, mouth. He checks his breathing and blood pressure, knocks his knees and then asks questions about how he's feeling. </p><p>Again, Mischief's answers are one to two words. Derek's beginning to notice that happens when he's uncomfortable, and files that away for the actual interrogation. Maybe just Derek and Talia would be in the room. </p><p>"Let's finish with the medication he has," Dr. Dunbar tells Talia. "We'll have to ween him off, so cut the dosage in half for a couple days, and then in half again."</p><p>Talia nods. </p><p>"We're also going to keep an eye out for post acute withdrawal syndrome," Dr. Dunbar said. Mischief looks up at Derek, eyes slightly wider than normal. </p><p>"I know, it sounds a lot scarier than it is," Dr. Dunbar says, seeing Mischief. "All it is is just the psychological effects."</p><p>He gets up and moves to the cabinet beside Derek, grabbing three pamphlets and handing them out. </p><p>"Things to look for include impulse control," Dr. Dubnar continues. Derek and Talia open their pamphlets, Mischief just holds his, looking down at the cover. </p><p>"Having trouble sleeping, or mood swings." Dr. Dunbar smiles reassuringly at Mischief. "All things that can be helped."</p><p>Derek takes a look at the list of symptoms, and has to remind himself Mischief might not have all of the ones listed. He might not have any of them. </p><p>Irritability, depression, fatigue, anxiety, insomnia, limited ability to focus, chronic pain and lack of libido. </p><p>They talk a bit more between adults, and then Dr. Dunbar asks Mischief if he has any questions. He just wants to go home, so Derek walks with him down the hallway while Talia and the doctor talks more. He's back in his pajamas and a red sweater. </p><p>"Here," Mischief says, handing the pamphlet to Derek. Derek takes it and shoves both into his back pocket, the two of them heading to the elevators. </p><p>He's not as fidgety anymore, but Derek can tell he's anxious being out in public. Derek doesn't touch, even though he wants to comfort the kid. </p><p>They reach the main floor, and Derek does touch then, placing a hand on Mischief's shoulder to keep the kid from running into a a bunch of nurses running to the ER. </p><p>Both of them look over to see whats happening, but after a moment, Derek pats his shoulder and the two start walking towards the exit. </p><p>They wait in the car for Talia and then head back home. Mischief falls asleep halfway home. </p><p>"I think we should set up an appointment with a child psychiatrist," Talia says softly. Derek nods. </p><p>"He's gonna need one."</p><p>Back at the house, Derek ends up having to pick Mischief up. He refuses to wake up, so Derek has him in a reverse piggyback ride, arms locked under him. Mischief has his head on Derek's shoulder, arms and legs dangling. </p><p>Talia holds the door open for them. Derek decides to set him down on the couch, laying a blanket over him before heading to the kitchen to sit with Talia and Laura. Cora and Issac are at school, and Boyd won't be back with them for a few more hours, so it gives them all time to sit quietly.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter is going to get into Stiles' trauma. I'll post a warning in the notes before the chapter to remind everyone but there's going to be talk of sexual and physical abuse, on top of the mental abuse that comes with it. If you can't stomach it please don't read the next chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>!!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!!!</p><p>This chapter talks a bit about what happens to Stiles in Deucalion's care, including a very brief description of how Stiles is sexually abused. Please read with caution, the tags above are not put there to look pretty!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek is putting on his uniform when Mischief walks into the room. He's wearing cargo pants with a belt and an old power rangers shirt. </p><p>Derek straps on his gun and everything else he needs while looking at Mischief quietly. He's fiddling with his fingers, sitting down on the bed. </p><p>Today they're going to the station to get Mischief's statement. Talia is downstairs waiting. </p><p>"You okay?" Derek asks, looking down at the kid with a raised eyebrow. </p><p>"Yeah," he said, standing to his feet. The two head downstairs and climb into the car. Haigh and Rodriguez trail them as they head to the station. Boyd has instructions to bring Cora and Issac to the station when school lets out. </p><p>Derek had set Mischief down the night before to explain what he had to do, and although the kid was anxious, he still wanted to. </p><p>In the station, Derek lead Mischief through the bull pen, Talia behind them. He brought them to a small room they used to get statements, a camera and recording device all ready to use. </p><p>Mischief sat with his hands in his lap, eyes on the table. Talia sat beside him and Derek sat across. </p><p>He started the recording, got papers in order, and they started. Derek asked the routine questions, let Mischief know if he was uncomfortable answering anything that he didn't have to, but said the more he told the better. </p><p>Derek wrote down everything Mischief said, from start to finish. How he had been outside playing with his neighbor when a guy told him he lost his dog. It was a common ruse to get kids to follow. </p><p>Mischief didn't know the man's name, and couldn't remember what he looked like, but he remembered being locked in a van. He remembered meeting Deucalion for the first time, and a guy named Ennis. </p><p>He said Ennis was who got him on Herione a few months after Mischief showed up, and then once he was hooked, got him on Cocaine. </p><p>He had been using for three years then. </p><p>"Did you see them selling drugs?"</p><p>"Yeah," Mischief said with a nod. "Deucalion doesn't sell in person, but he looks over everything and gives everyone jobs."</p><p>Derek wrote as Mischief spoke. "Ennis is his right hand. Deucalion usually tells me what to do, and sometimes he and Ennis take me with them when someone wants to buy a lot of it."</p><p>"Do you know where they keep most of their stash?"</p><p>Mischief nods again, and Derek feels relief course through him. If they could catch Deucalion and Ennis with drugs, the case would be closed and both would be put away. It was the biggest break in the case anyone had ever gotten. </p><p>Deucalion was known for murdering his own people to keep them quiet, though he never did it himself. There was legally nothing they could make stick, and then Mischief came along. </p><p>"They have a warehouse in a ghost town in Montana."</p><p>"If we got you a map could you tell us where?" Derek asked. Mischief nodded. </p><p>"Did any of them physically abuse you?" Derek asked. They already knew from the physical the first day Mischief was here, but he had to ask for the statement. </p><p>"Yeah," Mischief said. "When I didn't listen."</p><p>"What would they do?" </p><p>Mischief fidgeted again in his seat. "Slap me," he answered. "Or lock me in a room."</p><p>"Did they starve you?"</p><p>Mischief nodded, not looking anyone in the eyes. </p><p>"Who would hurt you?" Derek asked. He had to be thorough. </p><p>"Mostly Ennis," Mischief said. "Deucalion just kind of shook me around and threatened me."</p><p>"Threatened to hurt you?"</p><p>"Yeah," Mischief mumbled. </p><p>"Did anyone touch you inappropriately?" Derek asked. Talia had been mostly quiet, and like Derek, was probably remembering that Mischief was Cora's age. If this had been Cora...</p><p>"Yeah, Deucalion and Aiden," Mischief said. Derek had gotten a couple names out of Mischief, and he knew they were all aliases that they'd have to run through the database. Gideon Emery -Deucalion-, Aiden, Ethan, Ennis and Kali. There were quite a few people he mentioned who he didn't know the names of, but Derek had told him it was okay. </p><p>"What did they do?" He hated asking. He didn't want to know, because it would just make what he was feeling worse. But he had to ask, and Mischief didn't have to answer. </p><p>"Uh, I had to lay down," Mischief said. He was close to tears, and Derek could see Talia wanting to reach out a hand and comfort herself, but she stopped herself and instead covered her mouth. </p><p>"They got me naked, and, and touched between my legs. They got mad if I struggled."</p><p>"Did either of them put their penis inside?"</p><p>Mischief shook his head, his hands shaking in his lap. He was crying now. "N-no. Deuk- Deuk used his- his fingers."</p><p>"Did they ever make you touch them inappropriately?" Derek asked, steeling himself. He had to be professional. He had to get through as many questions as he could. Even though all he wanted to do was stop and hug him. </p><p>Mischief nodded, wiping his face with the sleeve of his sweater. "Where?"</p><p>"I don't wanna do this anymore," Mischief says, hiccuping. Derek instantly closes the folder and gets up to turn off the camera and recorder. </p><p>"I'm going to get something for you to drink," Talia said, scurrying out of the room. Mischief is still crying in his seat, so Derek brings over a tissue box and crouches down beside him. </p><p>"You did really good," Derek said, watching the kid wipe his nose. Mischief just let's out a sobby breath. </p><p>"I wanna go home," he manages. Derek nods and stands up, grabbing the folder. Mischief stands too, and surprises Derek when he grabs Derek's shirt, right under his arm where it's tucked into his slacks. </p><p>Derek lifts his arm, placing a hand on his shoulder and walks the two of them out of the room and into the pen. </p><p>Mischief stands just under Derek's shoulders, but he ducks his head down to his chest to hide his crying. Derek passes the file wordlessly to Boyd and nods before taking him outside. </p><p>Talia is outside too. She's standing at the steps, hand on her heart. She turns to see Derek and Mischief and puts on a masked smile. </p><p>"Ready to go?"</p><p>They drive home in silence. Derek takes the back seat with Mischief, let's the kid press into his side. Issac and Cora are quiet as well, Cora in the front seat with Talia while Issac sits on the other side of Derek. </p><p>He goes straight to the bedroom when they get home, ignoring Issac. </p><p>"He's tired, pumpkin," Talia apologizes on his behalf. "Why don't we get started on our home work."</p><p>Issac groaned loudly, head dropping back as he stomped after Talia. Derek ran a hand through his hair, pinching the bridge of his nose before going into the kitchen. </p><p>He pulled out his phone, calling Boyd, who conferenced him in with the sheriff. </p><p>"Is that enough?" Derek asked, holding thr phone to his ear with his shoulder as he rummaged the freezer. He found a pint of double chocolate ice cream and moved to get spoons. </p><p>"Yeah, definitely enough," Boyd said. </p><p>"We'll need the kid to show us any locations he knows about, and we should have him sit down with a sketch artist," the sheriff added. Derek nodded. </p><p>"Not today," he said. "I'll get him in sometime again this week."</p><p>"You know the FBI are going to have to be informed, right?" Sheriff said. "That kid's in a lot of trouble, and technically we have no jurisdiction."</p><p>"I'm aware, sir," Derek said, heading for the stairs. He ruffled Cora's hair as he passed the couch, earning an indignant squawk from the pre-teen, who shot him a glare as she fixed her hair. </p><p>"Talia and I will take care of him until after the trial," he said. "This is way too big to just let the kid go to some run of the mill foster home."</p><p>"I agree, and I'm sure the FBI will too," the sheriff said. "I'm going to wait to turn over the file until the kid gives us locations and descriptions. But once I do, be prepared for a shit show. I don't see this ending quickly."</p><p>Derek hummed his agreement before hanging up and pushing the door to his room open. Mischief was sitting on his bed, back pressed to the wall and his feet hanging off the bed. Issac's teddy bear was held to his chest. </p><p>"You okay?" Derek asked, moving to sit on the bed beside him. He left about a foot of room between them. Mischief sniffled a bit and shrugged. </p><p>Derek handed the kid a spoon before taking the lid off the pint of ice cream and sticking his own spoon inside. </p><p>"I eat ice cream when I have a bad day," Derek said, stuffing thr spoon into his mouth. He tilted the pint towards Mischief. </p><p>The kid set the bear aside and scootched closer pressing into Derek's side and scooping a spoonful of ice cream. </p><p>"How many times do you have a bad day?" Mischief asked around a mouthful. Derek smirked down at him, the two of them shoveling ice cream by the spoonful. </p><p>"It depends on the week," Derek said honestly with a shrug. </p><p>"How are you not fat?"</p><p>Derek laughed at that, nudging the kid with his shoulder. "Lots of exercise and healthy food."</p><p>Mischief made a face, scooping another mouthful into his mouth. "We ate microwave dinners," he said. </p><p>"Did you live with Deucalion?" Derek asked. Mischief shook his head, another spoon full of ice cream disappearing between his lips and reappearing clean. </p><p>"No, Deucalion was too important to babysit," Mischief said, sounding like he was repeating something said to him many times before. "I lived with Ennis. The only thing he knew how to cook was crack."</p><p>Derek would've laughed if that hadn't just come out of a thirteen year old drug addict's mouth. </p><p>"Well, we don't do microwavable dinners here," Derek said. "Its not good for you."</p><p>"But eating a whole pint of double chocolate ice cream before dinner is?" Mischief countered, smirking a bit. Derek raised an eyebrow, fighting off a smirk of his own and failing miserably. </p><p>"Bad days call for it," Derek said. "Its a rule."</p><p>Mischief looked down at his lap with a small nod, good mood dampened. Derek moved the ice cream closer. </p><p>"Another rule is you can't be sad while eating ice cream," Derek said. The kid sighed heavily, sounding like an adult with the whole world on his shoulders before going for another scoop. </p><p>"I wanna see your rule book," Mischief said, shoving a big scoop into his mouth. Derek gave a small smile. </p><p>"I'll have to dig it up. Might take a couple days."</p><p>"You know, the last time I had ice cream was on my tenth birthday?" Mischief asked. </p><p>"My dad got me oreo ice cream with a chocolate cake that said 'Happy Birthday' in green frosting."</p><p>"I haven't had a birthday cake in a long time," Derek hummed. Mischief looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. Derek smirked, leaning over a bit conspiratorially. "Adults don't really get cake and ice cream for their birthdays."</p><p>"That fucking sucks," Mischief said. Derek raised an eyebrow at the curse, but chuckled and nodded anyway. </p><p>"Yes it does," he said. The two are silent for a while longer before Derek speaks up again. "Your birthday is coming up in a couple months."</p><p>"I forgot," Mischief shrugged. </p><p>"Anything you want to do?"</p><p>"I don't know," Mischief shrugged again. </p><p>"Well, you have two months, so you have time to decide. But Talia will want to make you cake and get you gifts, so you better tell her what you want."</p><p>Mischief nodded mutely, continuing to eat his ice cream. They finished the pint a few minutes before dinner was called. </p><p>Derek got changed out of his uniform, pulling on a pair of sweats and a tshirt before leading Mischief out of the room. The empty ice cream tub stayed in the room until Derek could throw it away when Talia wouldn't see. </p><p>When Mischief questioned it, Derek just held a finger to his mouth and winked. The kid looked back at the pint before looking at Derek, blushing and nodding with a grin before going down stairs.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for not posting for a couple days! I'm really close to finishing Pretty Little Wolf, and I do this thing where I slap out as many chapters as possible when I'm close to finishing a book and that leaves me no time to write for my other books. But anyway, here you guys go!! Tell me what you think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek and Mischief went back to the station a couple days later, and sat down with a map of the states. </p><p>Mischief was given a red sharpie. The sheriff sat in on this one, with other maps of individual states in hand. Mischief silently looked over the map, marking the spot he told Derek about during the talk last time, and added two more circles to the map. One in California near Sacramento and one on New Mexico. </p><p>The sheriff pulled out the folded maps of California, Montana and New Mexico, unfolding them on top of the us map so Mischief could get a better location than just Eastern New Mexico. </p><p>Mischief mumbles to himself, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to remember locations, circles an area with the sharpie, then with his pointer finger, while he accounted what he remembered from being there himself, hearing about it or seeing it on a map in Deucalion's home. </p><p>The sheriff took the maps to add to the file when Mischief was finished, and Derek took him out for fast food before the sketch artist could take over. </p><p>They decided to eat in the lobby. The cruiser already smelled like stale French fries, and the heat did nothing but make said smell fester. Derek would much rather smell fresh fast food in the almost too-cold fast food joint than sit in a hot box of BO, vomit and half eaten burgers. </p><p>"Here," Derek said, handing Mischief the two cups. "Fill 'em up and I'll bring thr food over."</p><p>Mischief took the cups and nodded before walking the short distance to the fountain machine. Derek wasn't too picky on what he drank, so he wasn't worried about the kid picking for him. </p><p>His order was called. Derek smiled at the woman behind the counter, reaching for the tray before scowling at the distressed gasp behind him. </p><p>"We've been looking for you."</p><p>Derek spun around just as Mischief dropped both drinks, the fizzy soda splashing at his pant legs and puddling around his feet. </p><p>Derek quickly assessed. The man was shorter than him with a short nose and sharp jawline. He was sneering down at Mischief, a hand clasped firmly around the kid's upper arm. </p><p>Derek pulled out his fire arm and stepped into his line of sight. </p><p>"Let go of the kid," he demanded, gun aimed at the man's chest. Mischief was borderline hysterical, thrashing in thr man's hold. </p><p>"Do it now or I'll shoot," Derek shouted. Other patrons got up from their tables, rushing to find cover, but Derek kept his attention to the man holding Mischief as he stepped even closer. </p><p>The guy loosened his grip and Mischief retched his arm free before slipping on thr wet floor. His knees slammed into the hard tile, but he was scrambling up in a second, reaching for Derek's shirt and whipping behind him so fast he nearly tripped again. </p><p>"Hands up, now," Derek stepped forward. The man did as he was told and Derek quickly used a free hand to pull the cuffs from his belt. </p><p>Mischief had let go when Derek moved closer to the man, hiding himself behind the condiments counter while Derek roughly handcuffed the man. </p><p>"You can't do this!" The man yelled, causing more of a scene with the employees. "What are you arresting me for, I didn't do anything!"</p><p>Derek roughly shoved the man's head into the fountain machine, tightening the cuffs when he tried to fight free. </p><p>"Are you okay?" Derek asked Mischief instead. The kid was shaking like a leaf, pale and frightened. </p><p>"Th-that's Aiden," Mischief stammered, tears welling in his eyes. Derek's jaw clenched, eyes hardening as he turned to the still struggling man. </p><p>"You're under arrest," he bit out, yanking the man from the machine and towards the door. "For the kidnapping and rape of a minor."</p><p>Aiden went ballistic at that. He shouted and fought. Derek quickly took him to the ground. Aiden's heels were pinned to his ass, Derek straddling him to keep him from kicking out while he held his arms. </p><p>Mischief took off when Aiden got violent, running into the back where the employees worked. Derek couldnt go after him, so he gritted his teeth and pressed Aiden further into the tile. </p><p>He called for back up. Reyes and Boyd were the first on the scene and relieved Derek, yanking Aiden to his feet and pushing him towards the cruiser. He cussed and threatened loudly the whole way out of the building. </p><p>Derek rushed behind the counter, passing freaked out workers to the very back of the store. </p><p>He found Mischief tucked between the walk in freezer and a prep counter, knees at his chest, hands over his ears. There was a woman knelt down in front of him, trying to coax him out with gentle words and a hand on his leg. </p><p>Mischief kicked her touch off, sobbing. </p><p>"I got it," Derek said. The woman quickly backed up, and then Mischief was scurrying out of his hiding place and practically flinging himself at Derek. </p><p>Derek pulled him off his feet and carrying the kid from the kitchen area. He was still trembling and crying into Derek's shoulder when they made it outside. </p><p>Reyes and Boyd were already gone, booking Aiden at the station. Derek got Mischief into the passenger seat, looking around as he rounded the cruiser in case he saw something. </p><p>They drove back to the station, and Derek lead Mischief into the sheriff's office, letting the kid sit on the couch. The sheriff says nothing to the kid, and instead nods for Derek to sit at the chair on the other side of his desk. </p><p>"This is going to move up our timetable," the sheriff said on a sigh. Derek nodded, a sigh of his own leaving his lips. "I want the kid on twenty-four hour watch. Same goes for you and your family."</p><p>Derek still didn't say anything. </p><p>"The FBI are already notified, and they'll be sending in a team to take over. I've informed Mrs. Blake and the alphabet boys that the kid is to remain in Talia Hale's custody."</p><p>"I think thats best," Derek agreed. "We have a spare room if the feds wanna stick close."</p><p>"I'll let them know," the sheriff nods. "I'll have the sketch artist come in, get a quick sketch of whoever the kid can remember and then I want you to take him home. He looks exhausted."</p><p>Derek looks over his shoulder. Mischief is huddled into the arm rest of thr couch, knees under his chin, one arm tucked safely between himself and the couch and the other between his chest and thighs. His chin is on his knees, eyes glassy and far off. </p><p>When he turned back to the sheriff, he nodded and the sheriff picked up his phone to call in the woman. </p><p>When she entered, Mischief jolted back to the present, blinking thr glaze from his eyes as his body lost that relaxed sag. </p><p>He looked at the woman, then at Derek. A quick explanation got Mischief all caught up, and he kept to his own cushion when the woman sat down with the sketch pad. </p><p>They didn't need Gideon Emery's likeness, nore Aiden's, since that guy was in the basement already. </p><p>"Ethan looks just like Aiden," Mischief said. "Aiden is taller and paler, but Ethan's voice is deeper and his jawline isn't as square."</p><p>The woman nodded, writing that in the margins for later when they have Aiden and Gideon's photos on the news. </p><p>Mischief describes Kali and Ennis in great detail -having spent three years with the group of drug and human traffickers, it wasn't surprising when Mischief was able to describe the scars running from the tear ducts of his eyes to his lips. </p><p>When they'd finished, the woman turned each picture over so Mischief could see what she'd done. </p><p>"Ennis looks more angry," Mischief said softly. "In here." He runs his finger back and forth along his brow bone. </p><p>Aside from that, the woman did good at capturing their likeness and Mischief was crashing fast. Derek got him home not long after. Derek dropped down onto thr couch, head dropping onto thr arm rest and arm draped over thr back. </p><p>He didn't bother taking off his uniform. He startled a bit when Mischief settled into thr couch by his feet, and Derek opened his eyes enough to peer down at him. </p><p>"You okay, kid?" He asked. </p><p>Mischief just picked at his pants, body still and he shrugged a little. Derek knew he wasn't, so he kept his attention on thr kid. </p><p>"I don't want to leave," he said finally, looking up at Derek now with tears in his eyes. "They're going to make me leave, and I wanna stay."</p><p>Derek sighed, sitting up a bit. He holds out a hand, letting the kid decide if he wants to be touched or not. Mischief reaches out too, grabbing his hand before crawling closer. </p><p>Derek wraps his arms around the kid, all thin lines and long limbs and sighs again, leaning back until Derek is laying back again. </p><p>Mischief buries his face in Derek's uniform, sniffling but not fully crying yet. Derek rubs his back soothingly, eyes closing with exhaustion. </p><p>"I know you want to stay," he said softly. "But you know what Deucalion's like. Do you think he's just going to leave you alone?"</p><p>He knows he's being harsh, stomping on Mischief's wants. But he's not good at lying for the sake of feelings. And Mischief is too smart not to know what was about to happen. </p><p>"What if I don't say anything?" Mischief asked, lifting his head up to look at Derek. "If I don't say anything in court and you don't say I said anything then I can stay."</p><p>Derek nodded. "If you want that," he said. "I can call the station and tell them to make you anonymous, we'll just have to make sure the evidence is solid without a witness."</p><p>Mischief's face fell a bit and his grunted before dropping his head back on Derek's chest. </p><p>"Will I be able to talk to you guys when I'm gone?"</p><p>"No," Derek said. "You'll be put into witness protection. You'll get a new name and a handler to keep you safe."</p><p>Derek's eyes are drooping again. "You'll be able to go to school, and do everything anyone else will."</p><p>Mischief nods, sniffling a bit. There's a long moment of silence between the two of them and Derek's just about to drop off when Mischief speaks again. He lifts his head and Derek blinks his eyes open to look at him. </p><p>He's got a determined look on his elvish face, nose scrunched just a bit. </p><p>"There were others," he said. "Like me. Kids. I saw a couple of them. They were older than me, but I think they didn't want to be there."</p><p>Derek wasn't surprised. With how big of an operation Deucalion ran, it wasn't far fetched that he'd have multiple runners. Ennis must have been Mischief's handler. Who knew how many kids they had working for them. On top of the kids they took for the sole purpose of selling off. </p><p>"I'm gonna do it," Mischief said. "And maybe the other kids can get out too."</p><p>Derek smiled at him. The kid was too smart for his age. He dropped his head again, eyes just as heavy lidded as Derek's. </p><p>Again, Derek was just about to doze off when Mischief spoke again, drawing him back to consciousness. </p><p>"Can I pick out my new name?"</p><p>"I'm sure you can," Derek said with a yawn. </p><p>"I want to be called Stiles," Mischief said, sounding decided. Derek hummed in question. It was a strange name, just as strange as Mischief, and his birth name. </p><p>"My grandpa's name was Stiles," Mischief said. "Well, his nickname was."</p><p>Derek gave a small smile, eyes still closed. </p><p>"I think Deucalion might figure out if I used my dad's name. And I can't go by my moms name because that's a girls name."</p><p>Derek huffed a laugh at that. "You could call yourself Klaus, or Claude," he suggested. Mischief made a gagging noise, shaking his head. </p><p>"No, I like Stiles."</p><p>"Okay, then Stiles it is."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So thr trial and everything is going to take about a year so we're going to get a light of bonding and Mischief is gonna start feeling like he's part of a family for a bit before I RIP him from the Hales to join witness protection. But don't worry I'm gonna put them back together again!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The two fell asleep on thr couch and didn't wake up until Talia came back with the kids. Reyes had escorted her home and was staying in the driveway until someone came to releive her later tonight. </p><p>At the sound of the front door opening and slamming against the wall, both Derek and Mischief jolted awake. Mischief didn't relax until he heard Issac shouting as he ran up the stairs, angry at something Cora said. </p><p>"Long day?" Talia asked when she walked in on the two blinking the sleep from their eyes. Derek's uniform was wrinkled and felt uncomfortable. </p><p>"Very eventful," Derek said through a yawn. Talia's eyes moved to Mischief, who was sitting on the couch rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes. When she looked back Derek gave her a nod and a 'tell you later' look. </p><p>"Okay, well, how about I get started on dinner," Talia said. "Derek, go change, Mischief, why don't you help me."</p><p>Mischief looked up at her a little startled before his eyes snapped to Derek. </p><p>"Go ahead," he said with a nod. Talia's smile grew when Mischief slowly got off the couch, making his way into the kitchen and looking as uncomfortable as ever. </p><p>Derek knew Talia would win the kid over -its what she did with Issac when he'd first arrived. So he stalked up the stairs to change, the sounds of Cora and Issac yelling at each other from their respective rooms getting louder. </p><p>Derek rolled his eyes on a huff, stepping up to their bedroom doors and folding his arms. </p><p>"What are you two yelling about?" He demanded, scowling. Both kids went silent, shocked that someone interrupted their argument, and then Issac ripped his door open, looking as angry as a fuzzy kitten. </p><p>"Cora told Danny he wets the bed!" He cried. </p><p>"I did not!" Cora yelled from her door, stomping over and yanking it open. </p><p>"Yes, you did!" Issac snapped, outraged. "You made him cry!"</p><p>"Cora," Derek sighed, turning to face her with a raised eyebrow. Cora instantly dropped her eyes, folding her arms. </p><p>"I didn't!" She pressed. </p><p>"You did!" Issac nearly yelled. "I saw you! You and Lydia were on the playground and when Danny asked to use the swings you both laughed at him and called him a bed wetter!"</p><p>"Cora," this time Derek added a disappointed tone to his voice that had Cora's shoulders hitching towards her ears. </p><p>"Lydia did it!" Cora yelled, looking up at Derek. "She called him a bed wetter and she pushed him down!"</p><p>"Did you stop her?" Derek asked, already knowing the answer. Cora shut her mouth, looking ashamed as she shook her head. </p><p>"No," she grumbled. </p><p>"You know mom doesn't want you hanging out with Lydia," Derek scolded. "She's not a nice girl."</p><p>"But she's my friend!"</p><p>Derek sighed, nodding for her room. Cora huffed, stomping inside and nearly slamming her door shut. Derek grabbed it before she could rattle the foundation with her pre-teen angst. </p><p>She stomped over to her bed and dropped down with a glare to her quilt. Derek huffed before following her in. He was still in the uniform and he was beyond uncomfortable, but he sat down on the bed beside Cora anyway. </p><p>"I know you think Lydia is your friend," Derek said. "But she's dealing with a lot right now-"</p><p>"I know!" Cora grunted. "Thats why I don't understand why you and mom hate her so much! She needs a friend!"</p><p>Derek sighed, leaning his back against the wall. "We don't hate her, Cora-"</p><p>"You sure act like it."</p><p>"We don't hate her," Derek repeated. "We think its really good of you to want to be her friend while she's hurting. But sometimes instead of making that person feel better, that person ends up making you mean."</p><p>"Lydia isn't making me mean," Cora snapped. Derek raised an eyebrow at her. </p><p>"I didn't hear you sticking up for Issac's friend," Derek said. "Danny's only eight years old."</p><p>Cora hunched her shoulders, head dropping even further. </p><p>"I know you mean well," Derek said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and bringing her into his side. "I think its incredibly nice of you to want to make sure Lydia has a friend while her parents are splitting up. But you need to be careful."</p><p>Cora says nothing, but she drops her head on Derek's shoulder. "Lydia is hurting and she feels the only way to feel better is to hurt other people. Sometimes you turn into the people you hang out with."</p><p>"So maybe she'll turn into me," Cora said. </p><p>"I don't think she's at a place where she can," Derek sighed. The two sit there for a while before Derek pats her shoulder, climbing off the bed. "You should apologize. To Issac and Danny."</p><p>Cora nods. Derek goes to his own room, stripping out of his uniform and sliding into a pair of joggers shorts and a tshirt before making his way down the stairs. </p><p>He can smell the start of stew and follows his nose into the kitchen. Talia has a mess of vegetable scraps boiling on the stove for broth, a skillet beside it cooking steak in chunks. </p><p>Mischief is at the counter cutting potatoes into cubes with Talia beside him, making rolls from scratch. </p><p>He moves to the island, sitting down across from the two and watching. Mischief seems relaxed, and speaks to Talia in soft tones when she asks him a question or mentions something. </p><p>Mischief takes the potatoes he's cut up and puts them in a bowl before taking out another potato. </p><p>The stew isn't really a family dish, but they eat it quite often. After the broth boils, Talia puts it into a blender until all the scrap vegetables are cut up into small pieces, and then dumps it into the crock pot. </p><p>Mischief adds the potatoes while Talia tends to the steak. Then he starts cutting the carrots. </p><p>"How about we eat on the deck today," Talia suggests, looking at Derek with a raised eyebrow. </p><p>"Sure," Derek nods. "Reyes and Boyd are gonna be on watch for the evening, maybe we can take them a bowl."</p><p>A few minutes later, Issac is stomping down the stairs, running into the kitchen and jumping onto the stool beside Derek. </p><p>"Are you making soup?" He asks, eyes wide in excitement. He's practically bouncing in his seat, and Derek can't help but grin down at him. Its such a difference to how he was just a few months ago. He wouldn't even speak. Much like Mischief. </p><p>The two were pretty similar in their distrust and timidness when it came to the Hales, but Derek knew better than to think Mischief would be so easy to coax out. </p><p>Cora came down when the stew was finished, having been cooked in the crock pot for about thirty minutes. Derek and Talia fill bowls, adding a roll to each from the oven. </p><p>Mischief has two bowls in his hands, looking up at Derek expectantly. Derek grins and takes one before leading Mischief out of the front door. </p><p>The two walk over to the cruiser, where Reyes is perched on the hood, Boyd leaning against his closed door. </p><p>"Ooh, special treatment," Reyes grins, leaning forward when Mischief stops at her feet, holding the bowl out to her. </p><p>Derek passes his own bowl to Boyd, who thanks him with a silent nod. </p><p>"Thank you, sweetheart," Reyes says, grinning at Mischief. Derek grins when he sees the blush on his ears and cheeks, chin tucking down as Reyes takes the bowl from his outstretched hands. </p><p>"Bathroom and kitchen is open if you need anything," Derek said, already heading to the house again. Mischief runs after him, slowing down when they're side by side. </p><p>He's still blushing as they walk inside. </p><p>"You're blushing!" Cora says when they reach the kitchen again. Mischief's ears turn brighter red and Derek can't help but chuckle to himself as he hands the kid his bowl. </p><p>"M'not," Mischief mumbles to his feet. He remembered being thirteen and having a pretty woman give him even a sliver of attention. And Reyes was beautiful. </p><p>"No teasing," Talia scolded, but she was smiling too as the five of them headed out to the deck. </p><p>It wasn't big, just enough to fit a table of eight. There was a fireplace a couple feet away that the family liked to use when it was fall. </p><p>They all sat, Mischief sitting beside Derek. Talia sat at the head to Derek's left, and across from him was Cora. Issac was across from Mischief. </p><p>The kid kept quiet for most of the conversations, eating and listening. That is until Issac brought him into the discussion on Monopoly. </p><p>Derek and Talia didn't want to play it -it was the longest game in thr world, and had nearly ruined any relationship between Derek and Laura when they were younger. Issac and Cora wanted to play it, which left them at a standstill. </p><p>"Mischief gets to decide," Issac declared, pointing a finger across the table. Mischief froze, eyes widening a little. </p><p>He looked up at Issac with his mouth opening, before he realized everyone else was looking at him too, and he quickly shook his head, dropping his chin and hunching his shoulders. </p><p>"Yeah, its a tie," Cora said. "Which means you get to vote."</p><p>"I-" Mischief looked ready to crawl under the table, and Derek was about to tell the two of them to knock it off and pick a different game, but then Mischief said, "I don't know what Monopoly is."</p><p>That set the other two kids into a surprised uproar. Even Talia looked a little shocked. </p><p>"Then we have to play!" Cora yelled, jumping to her feet so fast the chair scraped back against the wood. </p><p>"How do you not know what Monopoly is?" Issac asked at the same time, sounding as insulted as an eight year old could. </p><p>Mischief was blushing again, shrinking in his chair and looking anxious. His hands were wringing in his lap. </p><p>"Okay, calm down, you two," Talia rolled her eyes. She turned to Mischief with questioning eyes and a smile. "Would you like to learn to play?" She asked. </p><p>Mischief looked at the two kids, then back to Talia before looking at Derek, mouth opening on words that refused to come out. </p><p>He shrugged helplessly. "O-okay."</p><p>That stuttered word had Cora running into the house like a starter gun, and Mischief watched her with wide eyes. </p><p>"Its a really fun game," Issac assured Mischief. "Last time I got a house and all three of the yellow cards!"</p><p>Derek leaned over, bumping their shoulders together. "Don't worry, if you get confused just ask me."</p><p>Mischief swallowed thickly before nodding, moving his chair until the arm rest was pressed against Derek's. Cora returned with the box and after a hectic and confusing explanation of the rules and how to play by Cora and Issac, the game was started. </p><p>Derek chose the thimble, Talia got the hat. As always, Cora and Issac fought over the dog and in the end, Derek snatched it up and gave it to Mischief, ending said fighting and forcing Cora to pick the car and Issac to choose the iron. </p><p>They played for hours. At first, Mischief just played along, watching how the others played, but within thr hour he was buying property and hotels. He was grinning a bit when Cora landed on his boardwalk. </p><p>He had a system for his money too, Derek noticed. Instead of stacking them by color and currency like everyone else, he had them in three piles. One pile was for buying property and housing, the other was the money given to him by people who landed on said property, and the third pile was in case he landed on someone else's. </p><p>Mischief had fifteen properties and was wringing the rest of them dry. It was clear Mischief was gonna win the game, and Issac and Cora were not having it. </p><p>"Thats no fair! This is your first time playing and you're winning!" Cora whined. </p><p>Mischief grinned, rolling the dice for his turn. "I'm really good with money," he said with a shrug. "And real-estate."</p><p>Derek knew he had seen Deucalion working with money from the drugs he pushed, and had no doubt the kid had been around when he dealt with his properties. It shouldn't be surprising the kid picked it up quickly. </p><p>"Maybe we should play poker instead," Cora grumbled, her fingers flicking the corner of her single property. </p><p>"I like poker," Mischief said, looking at the group before looking specifically at Talia. "I wanna buy it."</p><p>The group groaned and Derek laughed when Mischief forked over the money and bought Electric Avenue.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We've got some bonding and a bit of conflict! What do you guys think????</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Derek scowled at himself in the mirror. He had let himself go a bit, and he was looking a little scruffy. </p><p>His five o'clock shadow had turned into a full blown beard, dark and shirt against his skin. It made him look like a lumberjack. </p><p>He hadn't noticed it until this morning while he was eating breakfast. Food dripped from his mouth and instead of it falling back onto his plate, it had stuck to the hairs on his chin. </p><p>The kids all thought it was hysterical, and Laura even chuckled as she helped pick the eggs from his face. She had stopped by to check on Mischief before work. </p><p>Now he was in the bathroom, glaring at his beard and then pulling the electric razor from under the sink. He had left rhe bathroom door open, not liking the sound in a closed space. </p><p>Mischief stepped into the door, looking at Derek through the mirror. "You're cutting it?" He asked. </p><p>"Yep," Derek said, plugging it in. Mischief stepped into the bathroom, sitting on the toilet lid and dropping his elbow onto the counter. He cupped his chin in his palm, watching Derek. </p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"I don't like it long like this," Derek said. Mischief made a face, nose scrunched. </p><p>"I've seen longer," he commented. Derek snorted, turning on the razor. Mischief watched silently as Derek worked the loud razor over his jaw, down the underside before going for his cheeks. </p><p>"You've still got hair there," Mischief said, pointing to his own cheek. </p><p>"Yeah, I keep a little," Derek said. </p><p>"Why not just cut it all off?"</p><p>"Because then I look like a fifteen year old," Derek said with a huff. "And its not a pretty look."</p><p>"When did you start shaving?"</p><p>"Why? Planning on growing a beard before your birthday?" Derek asked with a smirk. Mischief blushed, shaking his head a bit. Derek noticed he reacted to things a lot better now that he was clean. </p><p>He was blushing and getting embarrassed. Grinning and even laughing a little -though it was just a huff of air through his nose. He was proud of how far the kid came. </p><p>"No," he said. "But I already have hair on my armpits."</p><p>"Do you?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. Mischief nodded before lifting his shirt to show off the light scraggly hairs on his armpit. Derek reached forward, pinching at him and laughing when Mischief jerked away, dropping his shirt and glaring at him. He was grinning though, so it didn't look as menacing as he thought. </p><p>Derek returned to shaving, getting under his nose carefully before answering Mischief's question. </p><p>"I started shaving when I was seventeen," he said. </p><p>"How old are you now?" Mischief asked. </p><p>"I'm almost twenty-five," Derek said. </p><p>Derek turned off rhe razor, checking over his face for any spots he missed before humming back to Mischief. </p><p>"How do you do that without cutting your face?" Mischief asked. </p><p>"Lots of practice," Derek said. </p><p>"But isn't that sharp?" He asked. </p><p>Derek nodded before stepping from the sink. "It doesn't hurt unless you snag," he said. "Come here, I'll show you."</p><p>Mischief got off the toilet seat and moved to stand beside Derek. Derek grabbed his shoulders, pulling him in front of him before grabbing the razor and turning it on again. </p><p>"It won't hurt, I promise," Derek said when Mischief's shoulders tensed under his palm. He looked at Derek through the mirror before giving a small nod. </p><p>Derek brought the razor to his smooth cheek, using his free hand to pull a bit at the skin of his jaw. He ran the razor over his cheek lightly, making sure it didn't catch his skin at all before turning it off and stepping back. </p><p>Mischief grinned, rubbing at his cheek. "It tickled," he said. Derek only grinned, putting the razor back under the sink before wiping the little hairs into the sink. </p><p>Mischief makes his way back to the toilet, watching as Derek cleans up the sink, running the water to get rid of the bits of beard hair. </p><p>"Deucalion uses a knife to cut his beard," Mischief says. Derek raises an eyebrow in question. </p><p>"He likes to threaten people with it when they do something wrong."</p><p>Derek wasn't surprised. "He ever threaten you with it?"</p><p>"No, mostly the adults," Mischief said with a shrug. Derek nodded, using a guiding hand on Mischief's shoulder to lead him out of the bathroom and to the stairs. </p><p>Cora and Issac were already at school, Laura at the hospital. Talia was in her office for the rest of the morning, so it was just Derek and Stiles. </p><p>"How about we get started on getting you caught up with school?" Derek suggests, bringing them into the kitchen. Mischief lifts his head a bit to look at Derek, and he smiles when he sees Mischief's excitement. </p><p>They sit down at the table where Derek had set the homeschooling books and pulled them out. </p><p>He set English, math, social studies and science in front of Mischief to let him pick which one he wanted to do first, and was surprised when the kid reached for math. </p><p>A pencil in hand, the kid got straight to work, flipping the page open. Derek stuck by in case he needed help, but after a while, realized the kid didn't need it. In fact, it looked like Mischief already knew everything that was in the book. </p><p>"Why don't you skip to the middle," Derek suggested. the book got progressively harder as they went. Talia got the books for his grade, but Derek had a feeling the kid was smarter than he'd previously thought. </p><p>So Mischief did, looked at the math problems for a second before pencil flew to paper and he was off again, writing down answers just as fast. Derek raised an eyebrow, quirkiness his lips. </p><p>"Honey, I'm home!" Derek looked behind him just as the front door shut. Peter walked with an air of indifference as he walked through the hall to the kitchen, like he lived here. </p><p>Mischief looked up when he entered. </p><p>"Good morning, nephew," Peter smirked. "Hello, Mischief."</p><p>The kid gives a small smile and a wave before returning to the math. Peter slides into the seat oposite Derek, on Mischief's other side. </p><p>"Hi," the kid says softly to the paper. The two adults watch for a little bit before Derek has Mischief move to the end of the book. Again, he works the problems with little effort. </p><p>"Maybe we should go up a grade or two," Derek hums. Peter -obviously impressed- pulls out his phone and types away. After a while he grabs a blank sheet of note paper and the pen from Mischief's hand before writing down a long and elaborate math problem. </p><p>Derek's eyebrows raise in question, but Peter sets the pencil down and turns the paper to face the kid. </p><p>Mischief looks up at Peter before taking the pencil and looking over the problem. It looks like high school work, possibly even college, and Derek is about to tell Peter to try an easier problem, but then the kid starts to work. </p><p>It takes him a little longer to figure the problem out, and he even has to erase a few times, but then the answer is circled and Mischief pushes the paper back to Peter, who looks from his phone to the paper before smirking. </p><p>*-*</p><p>A couple days later, the FBI are brought in. Its a task force of seven. Derek and Mischief spend long days in the office, working closely with the agents to get the solid case iron tight. </p><p>The FBI are the ones to make the arrest. It's a sting. They wait until Gideon Emery and Ennis are in one of the locations Mischief had located -theyve got teams on all of the locations, but the drug traffickers end up in the one closest to Beacon Hills. </p><p>They have a nation wide man hunt on Kali and the twins. The FBI had arrested seven other people in the operation, and it was a blur of interrogations and plea deals. Mischief stayed with Derek. In the end, everyone thought it would be safer. </p><p>Two agents stayed at the Hale house too, in the spare bedroom. Since the case was so air tight, they almost didn't need Mischief to testify. But they wanted Gideon put away for more than the drug possession and intent to sell. </p><p>Word got out that the kid was the one who narced, and the news ate it up. News stations sent people to their house, to the school and hospital to try and get a story. </p><p>But with the news coverage came the danger for Mischief. Gideon knew. The three others who've evaded capture most definitely knew. </p><p>The alphabet guys were already getting Mischief set up with witness protection. </p><p>During those hectic months, Mischief had a couple problems. Panic attacks that nearly ended in the kid passing out, the rapid decline in emotional health. </p><p>Derek did what he could, as well as the rest of the Hales. Derek came with Mischief to the trial. Sat in the back with a stony face as Mischief had to sit in front of everyone and recount what happened to him in detail. </p><p>During recess, Derek tucked the boy under his arm, holding him protectively as the kis cried and shook. </p><p>"They wouldn't stop looking at me," he sobbed in the hallway. Derek held him close, cheek on Mischief's head. Hes shaking and choking back panicky breaths. </p><p>"You're doing so well, Mischief," Derek hums. "They don't matter anymore. They can't touch you and they know it."</p><p>Derek knows thats not entirely true -being put in witness protection is a clear sign that they can, in fact, touch him- and Mischief seems to know too, but he nods anyway, trying to settle his breathing. </p><p>Talia returns a little later, armed escort at her back, with bags of fast food. </p><p>Reyes, Boyd and a fed named Finn are with Cora, Issac and Peter. Laura has an officer on the floor she's working at the hospital. </p><p>Mischief and Derek's own fed shadow is standing against the opposite wall, dark suit and resting bitch face. </p><p>Talia sits down on the kid's other side, handing him a burger, then Derek before pulling out her own. There's two other burgers in the bag that she passes to the two feds watching them and the halls carefully. </p><p>They all eat in silence, and Derek is slightly surprised when Mischief leans his head against Talia's shoulder while he chews. Talia smiles at him, but doesn't touch. </p><p>The trial continues and Gideon Emery takes the stand. Mischief doesn't look at the stand. Instead, he reaches his hand back, over the little dividing gate that separates Derek and Mischief. Derek reaches up, clasping his hand and squeezing it in reassurance. </p><p>When Ennis gets to the stand, things turn a lot more hectic. Being much bigger -far more brute-y than Gideon- he shoves his weight around, sneers at Mischief and says something under his breath that has Mischief tightening his hold on Derek's hand behind him. </p><p>During the questioning, he gets unruly, making side comments directed at Mischief, how he liked it, how he begged for everything he got, and no matter how many times the judge slammed the gavel, he just wouldn't stick to answering the questions. </p><p>Mischief was trembling in his seat, crying silently and turned away. Derek wanted to hop the little fence and tuck him under his chin, take him out of the court house and hide him away. </p><p>But all he could do was whisper softly to him, leaning over the railing and holding him where he could. </p><p>On the way back to his seat, hands bound to his hips, he lunges at Mischief -a quick step forward with no real intent to harm. Mischief yelps, flails a bit and jumps out of his chair. It clatter to the floor and Derek is up on his feet in an instant, collecting the kid to his chest while the cops restrain him and shove him away, the judge demanding order and Ennis smirking. </p><p>Mischief quakes in his hold, gripping his shirt like a lifeline and burying his face in Derek's shirt. </p><p>"Everyone sit down!" The judge demands, angry glare on his face pointed to the brawny man in orange. </p><p>Derek moves to push Mischief back in the chair that's been put upright, but Mischief just holds on tighter, refusing to let go. </p><p>"Sir, sit down." Thats directed at Derek, and he gives a quick nod before lowering his head to Mischief's ear. </p><p>"You're okay, I'm right here," he says, tugging his arms from around Derek's waist. </p><p>He sits him down in the chair before sitting down behind him, keeping a hand on his shoulder. Mischief is still trembling, holding onto Derek.  </p><p>Gideon Emery is found guilty of drug and human trafficking, possession, multiple counts of murder -thanks to Mischief witnessing it- and statutory rape. </p><p>Ennis -real name, Brian Wade- is found guilty of all that, plus arson.</p><p>They're both sentenced to three life sentences with no parole. That night, Mischief crawls into bed with Derek. They're laying on their sides, facing each other. Mischief's knees are bent, the bear under one arm. </p><p>"Are you all packed?" Derek asked softly into the dark. </p><p>"Yeah," Mischief whispers. He shuffles a bit, huffing and pulling the blanket up around his neck. "I don't want to go."</p><p>"I know," Derek sighs, shifting down his bed a bit so their heads are level. There's a whole pillow length between their heads, but Derek can feel the heat of Mischief's knees near his stomach. </p><p>They fall asleep facing each other, and wake up in the same position. Mischief's hair is wild from sleep, his things all tucked away in a single suitcase Talia finds in the attic. </p><p>The feds agreed it was better for him to leave as soon as the trial was finished. Theyd be here to get him just after breakfast. </p><p>Derek carries the suitcase down the stairs with Mischief right behind him, bear still under his arm. </p><p>In the kitchen, Talia sets out breakfast. Its eggs and bacon with toast and cheese. They eat in solemn silence, the only sound is chewing and clinking forks. </p><p>And then there's a knock at the door. The table stills, Mischief stops breathing and hunches down in his seat. </p><p>"That must be them," Talia sighs, standing up to get the door. No one touches the rest of their food. </p><p>There are two federal officers in the foyer. One is older -arouns Talia's age- and the other looks like he's fresh out of boot camp. </p><p>Mischief sticks close to Derek's side, fingers gripping Derek's shirt. </p><p>The conversation is quick, a summary of what's going to happen to Mischief, the rules, and then the older man is handing Mischief a folder with his new identification on it. </p><p>He pulls out an ID with his face on it. Stiles Stilinski is printed as his name. The officer who gave it to him is also using the Stilinski alias and Derek suddenly realizes this man is going to be on the run with Mischief for a long time. He wondered if the man had any family or a life. </p><p>Mischief looks up at the man, a distrusting frown on his face as he tucks the ID back inside the folder. </p><p>"I'm not going to call you dad," he said. The man only nodded with a small smile. </p><p>Mischief let Talia swoop him into a hug, and then Cora and Issac. He tried giving the bear back, but Issac insisted he needed it more. When it was Derek's turn, Mischief broke out in tears and Derek held him tightly, chin on his head. </p><p>"Be good," Derek said, rubbing his back. Mischirf nodded before pulling away and sniffling. Stilinski grabs his suitcase and the three of them head out the door. Derek stands on the porch with his arms folded over his chest, face carefully blank in the chilly morning air. </p><p>Mischief is in the back seat, eyes on Derek, lower lip wobbling, and then the car is pulling down the long winding driveway, and Mischief is gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Half way finished! Sorry for not posting for a while, I'm working on a couple stories and this one kind of fell to the back burner, not being as popular as Pretty Little Wolf! Hope the people who do read this story enjoy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Five years later</p><p>Stiles wakes up to a pounding in his head. The kind that makes him feel like his eyes are going to pop out of his skull and his brains are gonna leak out of his ears. </p><p>He lets out a groan, slowly coming to consciousness. With it came the memories and Stiles feels his chest tighten with tears. His dad was dead. Shot between the eyes and dropped like lead the instant he opened the front door. </p><p>Stiles had been there, close by, felt the spray of blood and brain matter on his face. The faceless men came in like a title wave, swept in and fanned out like a growing mass of black. </p><p>Stiles had shouted, tried to get the attention of neighbors. He'd fought as hard as he could, but even with the training he got, he was outmatched and a quick jab to the side of his head with an elbow had Stiles dropping just as hard as his dad. </p><p>Only Stiles woke up. </p><p>He opened his eyes, taking in the room and trying to clear the blur from his vision. He was in a living room. The furniture was old and ratty, a spring shoeing in a couch cushion. Stiles looked down at his hands. They were bound to the wooden arm rests of a chair. </p><p>He saw the cotton of the chair cushions spilling out from under him, noticed he was in only his boxers and bruises were forming on his thighs from where he was hit during the struggle. </p><p>More bruises lined up his arms and spotted his belly and chest. He felt one on his face, could just make out the darkening skin under his eye. </p><p>"Well, look what we have here." </p><p>Stiles stilled, the familiar voice sending his heart into overdrive. His head snapped up to the side, where the man walked in. </p><p>He's leaning against the doorframe, arms folded and a smug look on his pug face. He looked older, more haggard and exhausted looking, but there was no mistaking who it was. </p><p>"I'll admit, when I heard Kate found you, I didn't really believe her. But here you are, in the flesh."</p><p>His smirk is just as nauseating as it had been all those years ago, and Stiles felt his breath stutter out. It was Aiden. </p><p>He stepped from the frame, stalking towards Stiles in a predatory way that brought Stiles back to those horrible years. His breath hitched, the man leaning forward and Stiles leaning back until his head pressed into the cushioned chair behind him. </p><p>"My, have you grown into your looks, Mischief," Aiden grinned, licking lips with a dull flat tongue. Stiles tries to push himself into the chair, farther away from Aiden, but he can't, and he suddenly feels extra exposed being in his boxers. </p><p>"You could drop pants left and right when you were younger," Aiden continued, dragging a shudder from Stiles as memories of being pinned under Aiden flashed in his mind. "But now? You're irresistible."</p><p>Stiles turned his head when Aiden came closer, pinching his eyes closed and holding his breath. He felt that stubby nose press into his cheek, felt the hot breath on his skin when Aiden chuckled. </p><p>"Do you have any idea what we have planned for you?"</p><p>It was a rhetorical question. Stiles said nothing, tried to steady his breathing. It helped when Aiden stepped back. </p><p>Stiles opened his eyes to see three other people walking in. He recognized Ethan and Kali easily, but the blonde was new. Stiles tugged at his wrists, feeling the ropes dig into his pale skin. </p><p>Aiden looked over too, his stance steady and frown deep. "Thought I said no damage," he scowled. "Deucalion's gonna hear about these." His fingers poke at the bruises on Stiles' thigh, touch lingering. </p><p>"He put up a fight," the blonde snapped with a roll of her eyes. "Theres no broken bones."</p><p>"You have any idea how hard it was to track you down?" Kali asked, smirk sharp and feral as she sauntered into the room. Stiles didn't know who to keep his attention on. Look away from Aiden and there was a chance Stiles was going to get fingers where he didn't want them. </p><p>Look away from Kali and he would feel the stinging of her long nails against his skin. </p><p>"Deucalion is not happy with you, pretty," she continued, hands on Stiles' forearms and leaning forward. Stiles winced at the weight pushing his arms into the wooden chair. </p><p>"You've fucked up pretty badly," she practically purred. "Deucalion has plans for you, puppy."</p><p>Stiles doesn't breath until she backs up, and only then its quick and sharp breaths that leave him dizzy. </p><p>"He has grown up rather nicely, though," she grins at Aiden. "Deucalion's gonna be thrilled."</p><p>And then Ethan steps forward with the blonde, holding a Polaroid camera. Stiles let's out a pained gasp when Aiden grabs ahold of his hair, yanking it back so his head is pressed into the chair. Ethan snaps the picture and Stiles feels tears in his eyes. </p><p>"I'll take one too, while you're at it," Aiden says, hand in Stiles' hair tightening. Another picture is taken and this one is handed straight to Aiden, the four of them chuckling. </p><p>Aiden releases Stiles' hair, and Stiles rips his head forward. "I'll take this to Deuc, see what he wants done with him," Kali said, taking the other Polaroid. "From the looks of him though, I think i know."</p><p>She winks at Stiles and his blood runs cold. Aiden and the blonde chuckle as Kali walks out of the room. </p><p>"In the mean time," Aiden hums, and Stiles instantly curls his fingers into his palms. Aiden walks across the room to a table. Stiles' eyes widen when he takes in the crack pipe and odd needles. </p><p>"No," he rasps, heels digging into the floor. He shakes his head as tears well in his eyes and spill over his cheeks. "No, please!"</p><p>Aiden picks up a needle. "Thats right," he grins, walking back over. "We heard you got clean."</p><p>Stiles yanks at his wrists, feeling the rope burn. "I also heard you've relapsed quite a few times." This grin is full of mirth. Stiles sobs, kicking at Aiden when he's close enough, but he's not wearing shoes or socks, so it doesn't do much. </p><p>"No, please! Don't I don't want it-" Stiles' voice cracks when the woman steps up and grabs him by the shoulders, pushing him into the chair with a surprisingly strong grip. </p><p>"You're going to be glad I gave this to you, Mischief," Aiden admonished, lining up the needle with the dark blue vein in Stiles' arm. There's still faint traces of track marks following that specific vein, and Stiles tries desperately to pull away. </p><p>His eyes are blurry with tears, he openly and loudly begging Aiden not to, but the needle slips in, popping through skin in an all too familiar way. Aiden empties the whole syringe and Stiles' eyes widen, breath hitching. </p><p>"There you go," Aiden said, pulling the needle out and tapping his arm a bit too roughly. "You sit on that and I'll come back and give you some more."</p><p>Stiles shakes his head. "No, please," Stiles sobs. The blonde moves her hands from his shoulders to over his chest, fake nails scratching at his skin. </p><p>"Come now, precious," the woman purs, mouth close to his ear. "You'll feel good soon."</p><p>Aiden places the needle down on the table again. "That should keep him busy for a half hour or so."</p><p>Stiles let's his head fall back onto the chair, already feeling the high. The woman behind him chuckles, licking at the shell of his ear. Stiles feels his body relaxing in the chair and the woman walks towards where Aiden falls into the old couch. </p><p>The woman follows and Stiles watches lazily as the two shoot up and sit back in the couch, talking in hushed voices. </p><p>*-*</p><p>"No more," Stiles cries when Aiden comes back with another syringe. Its used, Stiles knows, and he cringes back from it, even when its in his arm. </p><p>"This used to be your favorite, Mischief," Aiden smirked, emptying the syringe. "Plus, this will keep you from becoming a problem while we wait for Deucalion."</p><p>Stiles let out a groan, eyes fluttering shut and mouth falling open. "Thats it," Aiden praises. "Feels good, doesn't it?"</p><p>Stiles let's his head fall slightly to the side. He can't find it in himself to be worried about anything. </p><p>Aiden grips his thigh close to his groin, where his boxers rode up. "Just a little bit longer, and then we'll see what Deucalion has planned for you."</p><p>"Deucalion's in prison," Stiles mutters. </p><p>"I'm aware," Aiden grunts, scowling at Stiles. "And so is Ennis because of you."</p><p>Stiles only nods, too high to do anything else. Aiden's fingers move closer to his crotch, but all Stiles can really do is shift a bit. </p><p>"You and that damned small town cop."</p><p>Stiles let's a small smile lift one side of his mouth. The small town cop; Derek. The only time Stiles had ever felt at peace. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hopes he'll see Derek again. </p><p>*-*</p><p>Derek wakes up with a sigh. A lazy wake up that leaves him wanting to stay in bed. He doesn't. He can't. </p><p>He sits up and rubs a hand over his face. He pulls himself out of bed, pulls clothes on and runs a hand through his hair. </p><p>He passes the dresser, ignoring the mirror covered with dark fabric. He grabs the keys and wallet as he passes and leaves his room. </p><p>He makes his way to the kitchen. He can hear Issac getting ready for school, so he makes coffee, pulling down a bowl and filling it with cereal. </p><p>When Issac comes out with backpack in hand, the two don't say anything. Issac eats, Derek drinks his coffee, and then the two are leaving the loft and heading for Derek's Camero. </p><p>The drive is also silent, but Derek reaches over to run fingers through Issac's hair, giving a small smile. </p><p>"I'll come get you at three," he promises. Issac smiles softly back, nods his head and scurried out of the car and to the school. </p><p>Derek drives off, heading back to the loft. He had a shift in an hour. A shift he didn't really need to work. But he worked it anyway. </p><p>He worked less hours now. Having full custody of Issac put more responsibility on his shoulders. So Derek worked when Issac was in school, and only then. </p><p>He was just holstering his gun when his phone rang. He pulled it out, scowling at the unfamiliar number before swiping to answer. </p><p>"Hale."</p><p>"Its Agent McCall with the FBI," came a voice Derek hadn't heard in three years. He stills, a sudden fear washing over him. The last time he'd seen McCall was not something Derek ever thought about, and hearing from him suddenly set Derek's teeth on edge. </p><p>"Whats wrong?" Derek asks, because his mind automatically goes somewhere dark, somewhere he most times can't get out of. </p><p>"I just got word from a team in Rhode Island," McCall said. "I know this is against protocol -which is why I'm calling on my personal phone- but I thought you'd want to know."</p><p>"Know what?" Derek gritted out, the skin on his back itching. He had the urge to go back to the school and get Issac, or do something. He didn't know. </p><p>"Mieczysław Novak is missing."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Another chapter for you lovely people!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At some point Stiles isn't in the chair anymore. He'dls been moved to an old rug, and he lays splayed out like he took a fall. His fingers twist in the fraying edge of the carpet, muscles loose. He doesn't know how many days its been, but he can't seem to care. </p><p>Aiden steps over him, needle in hand, and Stiles pulls his fingers from the carpet, lifts his arm loosely into the air, grinning dopely up at the pug faced man. </p><p>He's never been drugged this often in such a short time before. Stiles remembers all the times before, when he was younger with Ennis and Deucalion, when he relapsed. There were times when he wasn't high. </p><p>Right now, Aiden and the blonde kept him high all the time. Every fifteen minutes they came back with another used needle. </p><p>Sometime down the line, Stiles stopped begging them not to. It felt better not thinking about his dad, about what was happening to him, so he offered a vein whenever someone walked over. </p><p>He doesn't know if he's had anything to eat, but he knows there's nothing in his stomach after throwing up in the dust covered toilet. </p><p>Kali came back some time. It had to be a couple days now, because Stiles can remember the sun going down. </p><p>She talks to Aiden, Ethan and the Blonde who Stiles now knows is named Kate, and then he's being hauled to his feet. </p><p>He stumbles a little, chuckles wetly, and follows them from the dirty living room to an equally dirty kitchen. </p><p>Stiles suddenly realized he hadn't left the living room since he showed up, and the sudden realization that he's being drugged hits him so hard he stumbles into the chair. </p><p>"Deuc has a couple buyers," Kali hums, slapping together a peanut butter sandwich and handing it to Stiles. "Did any of you feed him?"</p><p>She shoots a glare to the three. Stiles takes the sandwich, taking a bit bite and realizing he has in fact not eaten anything recently. </p><p>"Its only been two days, he's not gonna die of starvation," Ethan said with a roll of his eyes. Stiles takes another bite before he's swallowed the first one. </p><p>"Anyway," she snaps, still glaring at the others before her attention turns to Stiles, though she doesn't speak to him. "He's got a couple buyers. His picture is already being sent out, but he wants a few more. Then its just a matter of who is willing to pay more."</p><p>Stiles feels his stomach flip and he looses his appetite as soon as he gets it. </p><p>He needed to leave. He pushed himself up from thebchair on shaky legs, but Aiden quickly shoved him back down. "Where do you think you're going?"</p><p>Stiles just shakes his head, trying to force the high from his brain. He needed to focus and get out. He couldn't stay here. </p><p>"Thinks he wants more?" Kate asked with a smirk. Stiles felt lost, completely overwhelmed and he let out a broken noise. </p><p>"Just put him in a room until we hear back from Deucalion," Kali grunted. "Take pictures while you're at it."</p><p>Stiles was yanked to his feet and forced to climb the stairs. They creaked and groaned under their weight. Stiles stops at the top step, and back peddles a bit before Aiden shoves him forward. </p><p>Stiles catches himself on a wall, and then Aiden is grabbing his upper arm and tugging him down the hall to a room at the end. He hasn't forgotten he's only in his boxers, nor has he forgotten how Aiden had been one of the men who had sexually assaulted him when he was younger. </p><p>Aiden shoved him to the bed, and in an effort to keep from landing on it, Stiles bent his legs, turning a bit. He hits the side of the bed and lands hard on his ass. </p><p>Aiden just reaches into his pocket, pulling out three syringes and drops them at his feet. Then, he pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of Stiles, laying with an arm on the bed, one leg splayed straight out and the other almost tucked under his thigh. Other hand pressed into the floor beside himself. </p><p>Then Aiden left and Stiles could take a breath. The sandwich he ate sits heavy in his stomach as the door shuts and locks. </p><p>He stumbles to his cold feet, making his way to the window and yanking. Its painted shut and Stiles sees the head of a nail at the top, keeping it shut. He grunts and moves across the room, carefully avoiding the needles by the bed. </p><p>There are two doors besides the door out. One leads to a closet and the other to a bathroom. </p><p>There's nothing in the bathroom but a toilet and tub. The sink had been ripped out and was lying on its side.  Stiles steps through pieces of counter top, wood splinters and drywall pieces to the window over the tub, but its in the same shape as the other one. </p><p>He returns to the room, hands shaking. Again, he astudiously ignores the needles and sits on the bed, knees up to his chest. He drapes his arms over his knees, forehead pressed into the cross and took deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. </p><p>Images of John flash through his mind, making Stiles grit his teeth. They had been so careful. Stiles never answered the door, John always checked before he did, with his gun in hand. </p><p>Stiles had been in the kitchen, and stepped out to see who it was when he heard John flip the deadbolt open. He stepped up behind him when John swung the door open with a greeting. </p><p>And everything happened quicker than Stiles or John could react. The woman -Kate- had smiles, tilted her head to the side, cocked a hip, dug her hands into her back pockets, looking embarrassed. </p><p>She didn't even say anything. Stiles remembers John asking her if she was alright, but then her face turned stony in the same second her arm pulled forward. </p><p>Stiles had only gotten a glimpse of gun, inhaled to warn John, but the gun fired, and John dropped like a sack of rocks. Stiles had stood there frozen for a split second, but that was all it took for the men in masks to storm in around Kate and get to Stiles. </p><p>He needed to get out. Stiles lifted himself up, determined to get the window open. He stopped by the needles, knowing he could use the tip to cut into the paint. </p><p>He let out a strangled noise, the urge to plunge it into his arm making his hands shake. </p><p>He let out a broken exhale and walked back into the bathroom, sifting through the debris until he found a sharp enough piece of wood. It was about as long as his finger. </p><p>He brought it to the bedroom window and began scratching at the corners where the paint had been applied thickly over top. </p><p>He gets more and more frustrated after minutes drag by with nothing to show for it. He's already starting to withdrawal, and the peanut utter sandwich he had half eaten makes a reappearance in the broken toilet. </p><p>This time when he passes the needles, he stops and gets to his knees, picking one up. His stomach rolls with cramps, hands shaking. He can't leave like this. </p><p>Tears brim his eyes but he takes a steadying breath and holds his arm out, soft side up. He puts the syringe between his teeth and slaps at his arm a couple times until he can see the vein, then pulls the syringe out and settles the sharp point to his skin. </p><p>He lets out a choked noise, pulling the syringe away and letting it fall to the floor. He shifts so he's leaning against the bed, sobbing into his shaky hands. </p><p>He hadn't been able to stay clean for more than a few months since he was thirteen. He couldn't fight the addiction he had, no matter what he did. </p><p>But this had been the longest he had gone without. A year cocaine free, and eight months heroine. John had been so proud of him. He'd be so disappointed now. </p><p>Stiles openly sobbed into his palms, leaning to the side until he was laying on the ground, and curled his legs up into his chest. </p><p>He manages to sleep for an hour or so before he's awoken by his stomach rolling. He groans and sits up, clutching his middle and shaking. </p><p>Without thought, his hand reaches for the needles, grabbing one and bringing it to his arm. In the last second he catches himself, but he can't hold on for long before he plunges the needle into skin. </p><p>A breath later and he's pushing the stopper down. He takes a breath, pulling the needle out and closing his eyes for a moment. </p><p>It doesn't hit hard. He knows he shouldn't do another one. Knows he should work on getting the window open or even picking the lock on the door, but he's already emptying another syringe, chasing the high. </p><p>He gets it a couple seconds later and his shoulders droop, eyes fluttering closed. He sits for a minute or two before he pushes himself to his feet, syringe in hand as he moved to the window. He needed out. </p><p>*-*</p><p>"Mieczysław Novak is missing."</p><p>Derek feels his blood run cold. He hadn't seen or heard from Mischief in five years. He couldn't. </p><p>"He's been missing for three days now," McCall continues. His handler is dead. We think it might be Deucalion."</p><p>Derek breaks from his mute stupor, already moving to the front door. </p><p>"You sure?" He asked. He was getting Issac. </p><p>"He's gotten a couple visitors the past couple months, and we've picked up chatter," McCall said. "We got video surveillance of a girl meeting him just the other day looking like the description your boy filed. Kaylee or something."</p><p>"Kali," Derek's brain is quick to offer. "You think they found him?"</p><p>Derek slams the door of the Camero, speeding off back to the middle school. </p><p>"I don't believe in coincidences, Mr. Hale," McCall answers. "We've got a team on the case. Wanted to let you know what was happening. I know the kid was close with your family for a while there."</p><p>Derek nods, hand gripping the steering wheel tightly. If Deucalion could find Mischief, who was so far in witness protection that only two people knew where he was at all times, then he definitely knew where Derek and Issac were. </p><p>"I want on the case," Derek said, pulling into the parking lot and heading into the building. His uniform kept faculty from stopping him as he passed the office. </p><p>"You know I can't let you do that-"</p><p>"Mischief was my responsibility," Derek snapped, interrupting. "I want to help find him."</p><p>"We might've already did," McCall said. "They followed Kali back to an old house just outside of Providence. The team is scoping it out."</p><p>"I want to be there," Derek ground out. "He knows me. Let me help."</p><p>There's a long pause, which gives Derek enough time to poke his head in Issac's classroom and point to him. </p><p>"Well, shit," McCall mutters, resigned. Issac is quickly shoving his papers in the bag. "Fine. If you can get a plane out here, I'll see what I can do."</p><p>"Thank you," Derek said before hanging up. Issac rushes to the door and Derek puts a hand on his shoulder before turning to his teacher. "Sorry to interrupt."</p><p>He doesn't wait for her to say anything and leads Issac out of the school and to the Camero. </p><p>Issac looks up at him in confusion and Derek opens the door for him. </p><p>"Somethings come up. We're going out of town for a bit."</p><p>Issac only nods and Derek takes him back to the loft, calling the school and the office to let both know they'd be gone for a few days for an emergency. </p><p>They pack enough to fit into carryons, and Derek changes his clothes. He books a flight for an hour from now, and the two are off to the airport, which is thankfully only twenty minutes away. </p><p>The crowd gives a wide birth for Derek and Issac, and Derek knows its because of his face, and a little bit to do with his fast pace. </p><p>He ignores the looks as he leads Issac through customs and then sits with him in the gate for them to call their class. </p><p>Issac looks up at him with furrowed brows, and Derek sighs. He rubs a hand over his face. </p><p>"You remember Mischief?" He asked, looking down at Issac again. The thirteen year old nods. "He's in trouble. We're going to go help him out."</p><p>Issac nods and sags a bit in his seat. Derek does the same, arm on the back of Issac's chair.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New chapter! Let me know what you guys think!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles doesn't get anywhere with the window so he tries the door. He's got one more syringe left, and its tucked in the waistband of his boxers. </p><p>He's shivering and he doesn't know if its because of the cold or because he's already withdrawing. Either way, he wants something more than his boxers. </p><p>He lets out a loud curse when the needle snaps, lodging into the key hole. He throws the syringe hard against the wall and let's out a frustrated shout, slamming his fist into the door as tears sprung to his eyes. </p><p>He was about to be sold to some sick fuck who got off on unwilling sexual partners -most of them probably underage. If Stiles wasn't sold as a single person fuck toy, he was going to be a forced prostitute. Neither one of those options were something he wanted. </p><p>He clambered to his feet and made his way to the window again. He could break the window. He was trained. He could break it. </p><p>He punched an inch thick slab of wood in half with his bare hand, he could punch through half inch glass. </p><p>Stiles looked out of the window. Second floor. He shouldn't have taken those hits, he thinks dazed. He can't focus. He's gonna land wrong. </p><p>But he'd rather break his ankle than stay here. So he takes a deep breath, shakes his arms out, tilts his head left and right and bounces on his toes before he curls his hands into fists. </p><p>He lowers his shoulders, brings his arms up, one leg back, and throws the punch. </p><p>Only he hesitates and the window doesn't break. He yelps, clutching at his fisted hand, holding it to his chest and sucking in a breath. </p><p>He could do this. He broke wood! He broke wood sober. Stiles wiped angrily at his eyes before trying again and getting the same result. </p><p>"Fuck!" Stiles shouted, slamming his palms against the glass in frustration. He storms into the bathroom and starts picking up pieces of drywall and wood, and then chucking them as hard as he could at the window. </p><p>None of it breaks, so Stiles grabs the lid off the tank of the toilet, wretching when he sees and smells the dead rat in the water. </p><p>He storms back over to the bedroom, lid in his hands and rears back. With a shout, he throws the lid, flinches when the glass shatters, and then scurried over to see the lid broken in three pieces on the lawn. </p><p>There's still too much glass on the window sill, and he knew he needed to act fast. He swiped his hands across the edges, knocking at the glass and wincing as it cut into his palms. </p><p>He nearly gets all the glass out of the way when the door slams open. Arms grab him and yank him from the window and Stiles thrashes and curses, nausea kicking in as he's half carried half dragged out of the room and down the stairs. </p><p>Aiden and Ethan take him back to the kitchen, and he's being strapped down to the wooden chair. Stiles doesn't pay attention to what they're saying. He knows they're threatening him, cursing him. Stiles feels the burning sting of someone hitting him across the cheek and he winced. </p><p>Another hit has him more dazed than he was from the drugs, and he gasps, head rolling back with a heaviness that makes it hard for the muscles in his neck to work. </p><p>"More fucking trouble than he's worth," Ethan is saying, tying ropes around Stiles' wrists. Its too tight. Stiles can't feel the tips of his fingers. "Should just kill him and be done with it."</p><p>"At least wanna fuck him first," Aiden laughed, and Stiles lifted his head when he felt fingers tracing Stiles' cock through his boxers. </p><p>"You gonna perk up for me?" Aiden asked, grinning. </p><p>"Fuck you," Stiles manages to say, spitting at Aiden's feet. Aiden just chuckles and slaps him hard across the face again. He might get a bruise. </p><p>"Oh, thats right," Aiden chuckled, reaching to the table. "You only get off when you're high."</p><p>Thats not true. Not anymore. Stiles could get hard now -when he was sober- after months of working through a lot of shit. He was getting better. He let out a choked sob at that thought. Especially when Aiden pulls out a syringe and sinks it into Stiles' arm. </p><p>"Fuck you," Stiles repeats, teeth clenched. Another needle is brought from the table. </p><p>"Now, here's an old friend, hmm?" Aiden grins. </p><p>"Why are we wasting product on this asshole?" Ethan snaps. Stiles eyes the syringe. Its not cocaine, and he lets out a little choked off noise. Its heroine. Aiden was about to double dose him. </p><p>"Because, dipshit," Aiden snapped back, pushing the needle into the soft muscle of his arm, right under his shoulder. "He's not an issue when he's high, and if he stays hooked, he'll be easier to manage when he's no longer our problem."</p><p>Stiles knows Aiden gave him too much. He's never shot up while on cocaine before. He'd always been an sequential drug abuser, even when he was younger.  </p><p>Stiles feels his world going blurry and his head tilts a bit before his eyes roll back and he passes out. </p><p>*-*</p><p>He wakes up to someone hitting him and he feels his stomach roll, but there's nothing to throw up. He feels like he just spent the last four hours spinning in circles when he manages to open his eyes. </p><p>People are shouting, there's a strong stench of gas or smoke in the air, and when Stiles manages to blink the blur away, he sees men in uniforms -familiar uniforms. Aiden -or maybe its Ethan- is being pinned to the ground, one of the agents have a padded knee in his lower back and he's cursing loudly. </p><p>Another slap to his cheek, and sound starts coming back. Its too loud. He sucks in a sharp breath and groans, swaying before leaning forward to dry heave over his knees. </p><p>The hand that had been hitting him was on his back now, and he trembled. </p><p>"Hey, hey, you're okay," the voice says, and Stiles' brain finally places it. He lifts his head, realizes he's no longer tied down, and sees a face he hasn't seen since he was fourteen years old. </p><p>"Der-ek?" He croaks. He had to be Derek. Only he looked different. Stiles didn't know if it was the drugs in his system or what. He leans back in his chair, taking in the man kneeling in front of his chair, suited like a fed and looking at Stiles with a mix of worry and relief. </p><p>Stiles notices the marred skin on the right side of his neck, disappearing under his collar. Its angry looking. </p><p>Stiles feels tears filling his eyes as he looks at Derek amidst the chaos of the sting around them. </p><p>"Der," he gasps. Derek reaches forward, hands grabbing Stiles and helping him to his feet. He's quaking on his feet, and Derek quickly wraps an arm around him, holding him upright and leading him slowly through the house to the front door. </p><p>"Shh. Its okay, I'm here. You're safe." Stiles clings to his shirt, flinching when they make it outside. Its dark out, but the flashing red and blue lights are blinding. </p><p>First responders are rushing them, and Stiles is being pulled from Derek's hold. He fights weakly against them. He doesn't even know if Derek is really there, or just a hallucination, but he doesn't want to let go. </p><p>Derek follows him when the uniformed men get Stiles laying down on a gurney. There's a thick itchy blanket draped over him, and then he's being buckled from the ankles to under his arms. </p><p>Stiles reaches blindly out, and a hand catches his. He holds it, hopes its Derek's, as he's wheeled to an ambulance. </p><p>When he's in and the doors are shut, someone is checking his vitals, and Stiles still doesn't know who's holding his hand. </p><p>Things are said in rushed voices and they're moving. </p><p>"Derek?" He calls. He can barely hear his own voice. He wonders if anyone else can. </p><p>"Here, I'm right here." The hand squeezes Stiles' and he lets out a little sob. </p><p>"I-I relapsed," he choked out, bringing a free hand to his face, covering his eyes with shaky fingers. "I fucked up again, Derek."</p><p>"Shh," Derek says. "No, you're okay, its okay."</p><p>Stiles pulls his hand away and turns to finally look at him. Derek has his hand in both his own, holding it close to his mouth. </p><p>"I'm sorry," Stiles manages to say, eyelids drooping. "I didn't mean to."</p><p>"I know," Derek said. "I know, its okay." Stiles closes his eyes on an exhale, feels the EMT poking at him with needles, keeping an eye on his vitals. </p><p>"Dont let go of my hand," Stiles manages. He's too weak to squeeze Derek's hand back, he needs to make sure Derek knows not to let go. </p><p>"I won't."</p><p>Stiles passes out again. </p><p>*-*</p><p>Issac is safe with McCall's family, so Derek stays in the hospital with Stiles. They have to run tests, try to flush out the drugs in his system, pump fluids. </p><p>There's other agents waiting to take his statement. Derek has since changed out of the fed suit and into his civies, sitting in a hard metal chair and bouncing his leg. </p><p>It all takes hours that feel like days, and by then, most of the agents go back to the office, mumbling about getting what they need in the morning. </p><p>Still, Derek stays. </p><p>"Issac is more than welcome to spend the night at the house," McCall says, sitting beside Derek. "My son and wife are both there, and there's a spare room he can sleep in, if you want to stay."</p><p>"Thanks," Derek said. "Just let him know I'll get him in the morning?"</p><p>"Sure."</p><p>Derek turns back to bouncing his leg and chewing his lip. McCall had already let the hospital know that Derek was to be informed as soon as Stiles was finished. </p><p>He waited two hours more before a nurse finally brought him to Stiles' hospital room. </p><p>He was pale and thin in the bed. He had bags under his eyes and bruises up and down his arms. Derek settled into the chair beside the bed. </p><p>"I thought I hallucinated you," Stiles said, blinking over at Derek. His voice was deeper -still higher in pitch though. He was taller too. He'd grown into his limbs, though they were still long. </p><p>"How are you feeling?" Derek asked instead. </p><p>Stiles sighs, rubbing at his forehead. He had an iv in the back of his hand. </p><p>"Like shit," he mumbled. "I hate hospitals."</p><p>Derek nodded, agreeing with the sentiment. Stiles pulled his hand away and let it fall onto the bed, eyes searching Derek's face, before they dropped to his neck. </p><p>"What happened?"</p><p>"Fire," Derek says shortly. He changed the subject quick. "You've grown a lot."</p><p>Stiles blinks at the change of topic before an exhausted grin stretches across his face. "Had a couple growth spurts while I was gone."</p><p>Derek chuckled. </p><p>"You're turning grey," Stiles hummed. Derek raised an eyebrow. </p><p>"I'm not."</p><p>"A little," Stiles said softly, settling into the bed sleepily. "Just by your temples."</p><p>"I'm not that old."</p><p>Stiles smiles again, closing his eyes. "Will you stay?"</p><p>"Yeah," Derek said. He would even if Stiles hadn't asked. "Go to sleep."</p><p>Stiles shifted a bit before blinking his eyes open again. "Oh, um." Derek looks at him, confused, and then Stiles is shoving his blankets down and lifting up the hospital gown to show dark blue boxers. </p><p>He slips two fingers under the waistband and Derek's eyes widen when he pulls out a hypodermic needle, full of what looks like cocaine. </p><p>"You should probably take this," Stiles mutters, handing it over. "The nurses didn't check me."</p><p>Derek takes it with the tips of his fingers, standing up and walking to the cabinets. He finds a glove and carefully puts the needle in the finger before wrapping it up tight and shoving it in his pocket to give to McCall tomorrow. </p><p>He returns to the chair, and Stiles is back under the covers, staring up at the ceiling. </p><p>"I was clean for a year," Stiles said softly. "Its the longest I've been clean."</p><p>"It wasn't your fault, Stiles," Derek said. Stiles just shook his head, sniffling a little. He turns to look at Derek, and his eyes are red. </p><p>"I wanted it," Stiles said, throat working as he tried swallowing down the emotion trying to bubble up. "I used, they- they only forced me at the beginning. I was practically begging for it."</p><p>Derek shook his head with a sigh, moving from the chair to sit on the bed beside Stiles, one hand pressing on the bed on the other side of Stiles. </p><p>"Listen, kid," Derek huffed. "It wasn't your fault. It doesn't matter if you shot up yourself or someone did it for you. You're not being blamed for relapsing."</p><p>Stiles let's out a shaky breath, lower lip wobbling a little. "You're wrong."</p><p>Derek grabs his hand and squeezes it before moving back to the chair. </p><p>"I've got twelve years on you, kid," Derek said. "I'm not wrong."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New chapter! I didn't want Stiles to suffer too long since we got a rescue! Let me know what you guys think!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Getting clean was a regular thing for Stiles. He struggled with his addiction since the first time Derek got him clean. This time was no different. </p><p>Except it was. Because his dad wasn't here. The man Stiles had told from day one would never mean anything to him. He meant something to Stiles. And he was dead. </p><p>He had died in front of Stiles, and instead of fighting against the people who murdered him, he offered his arm to their needles. </p><p>Derek stayed with him, and so had a kid Stiles later realized was Issac. There was an extra bed put in the hospital room and the two of them slept in that bed while Stiles sweated it out. </p><p>Hospital withdrawal was better than at home, in Stiles' opinion. He didn't have to worry about anything but making sure he got his throw up in the bucket beside the bed. </p><p>It was Stiles' third night in the hospital when he woke up screaming and thrashing. He yanked at his IV cord, blind panic clouding his mind. </p><p>Hands grabbed at his upper arms and Stiles kicked and squirmed, shouting obscenities before the light flicked on and nurses were rushing into the room. </p><p>Stiles instantly froze, his mind reconnecting. </p><p>"I'm sorry- sorry it was- it was just a bad dream," Stiles gasped out, body trembling and sweating. Derek let go of his arms, sitting on the side of his bed near his knees. </p><p>The nurses still checked him over, and Stiles glanced guiltily over to where Issac was in his bed, eyes wide. </p><p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>"You don't need to apologize, Stiles," Derek said with a shake of his head. Stiles took a shaky breath in before nodding and not making eye contact. </p><p>He turned his arm over to the nurse, who was preparing to replace the IV, and barely winced when she stuck the needle into his vein. She taped it down. </p><p>They asked him questions about how he felt, if he needed anything, and then left, turning out the light when they did. </p><p>No one moved for a long time, Stiles yanking at his greasy hair with trembling fingers. Derek was still beside him, a hand on his thigh just above his knee. </p><p>Issac slowly moved back to lay down, rolling over so his back faced Stiles. </p><p>"I'm sorry," Stiles said again, quietly. </p><p>"Its fine," Derek said with a shake of his head. "Why don't you try and get some sleep."</p><p>Stiles sighed but shook his head, settling down against the pillow and staring up at the ceiling in the dark. "I'm okay," he said softly. "You go, I'm gonna just, just stay up for a little."</p><p>Derek didn't move. If anything he got more comfortable, and Stiles looked down at him with confusion. </p><p>"You don't have to stay up," Stiles said. "I'm used to this, you should sleep."</p><p>"How many times have you gone through this?" Derek asked, sounding way too invested in Stiles' answer. Stiles chewed on his lower lip, knowing Derek wasn't going to like the answer. </p><p>"A lot," he said on an exhale. "I could only stay clean for a couple months at a time."</p><p>Quiet hung between them and Stiles resolutely didn't look at Derek. He didn't want to see that disappointed, pitiful look he knew would be on Derek's face. </p><p>He didn't think he'd be able to handle it. Not after all that Derek and his family had done for him all those years ago. </p><p>"What made you relapse?" Derek asked. "Before, I mean."</p><p>Stiles dropped his head to look at his fingers, shrugging. He tried for nonchalant but he probably looked petulant instead. </p><p>"There usually wasn't a reason," Stiles said, and he hated how true it was. He looked up at Derek then, and he hated that Derek looked hurt. He winced. </p><p>"It-its not- I-" he huffed out in both frustration and self-resentment, dull nails digging into the side of his thumb. </p><p>"There wasn't an event that triggered a relapse," he decided on. "Its not like in the movies where something bad happens and the junky turns to drugs. I mean, it is, but-"</p><p>Another huff and Stiles thought he mightve broken skin, but he just switched fingers. "Its an addiction, and it doesn't just go away when I'm clean. I always want it."</p><p>Derek stayed quiet, and Stiles didn't know if he preferred that to him being vocally upset. </p><p>"I relapsed because I wasn't strong enough," he said, voice so low he wondered if Derek even heard it. </p><p>Apparently he had, because he shifted a bit and sighed. Stiles was ready for what he expected would come out of Derek's mouth next. The 'just be stronger than the addiction' or 'take the temptation out of your life and try'. </p><p>What Derek actually said shocked Stiles. </p><p>"I have room in the apartment. You can stay with us if you want." </p><p>Stiles looked up at him and blinked. His eyebrows drew together and he slowly shook his head. </p><p>"You don't want me in your home, Derek," he said, tearing his eyes from the cop on his bed. "You don't want to house a junkie, its not worth the work."</p><p>Derek scoffed a little at that, his hand on Stiles' thigh squeezing. "I've housed you before, haven't I?"</p><p>"That was different."</p><p>"Is it?" Derek countered, raising an eyebrow. Stiles just nodded. It was. Before, Stiles had been just a kid. Sure, he still had the cravings, but he had also been dealing with the trial, the court cases. Not to mention, he had no idea how to get what he needed at that age. </p><p>But Stiles knew how to find smack terrifyingly easily now. He knew where to look. And there was nothing to keep him preoccupied. </p><p>"I can't do that to your family again, Derek," Stiles said, shaking his head. </p><p>"Its just us two, now," Derek sighed. Stiles frowned and looked up at Derek, but Derek was looking at Issac with- with grief. </p><p>"What?" Stiles asked breathlessly, his chest tightening. Derek turned to look at Stiles again, that same grief in his foggy forest green eyes. Stiles felt bile in his throat and swallowed thickly. </p><p>"There was a fire a couple years back," Derek said, and he sounded so unaffected by it, but Stiles knew -based on his face alone- that was anything but true. </p><p>"What?" He couldn't help but sputter again. </p><p>"Issac, Cora and I were the only ones who made it out," Derek said, and his voice was so small, so broken that Stiles felt his own throat closing, and he clenched his teeth to keep his lower lip from wobbling. </p><p>His eyes moved to the burn on Derek's neck, the one that twisted against his cheek -leaving his beard patchy on one side- and disappearing under the collar of his shirt. Stiles had seen it, but had been so out of it, he hadn't brought it up. </p><p>But his stomach rolled now at the sight of it. </p><p>"Sh-shit," he managed, pulling at his hair as his heart throbbed painfully. He had always thought of the Hales as his pseudo-family. The ones who took him out of his fucked up life, who took care of him. </p><p>Talia, who forced Stiles to help her cook, Laura, who stopped by to check up on him. Peter, who came by for dinner and treated Stiles like he was normal. </p><p>"Where's Cora?" He asked, trying to push away the emotion threatening to suffocate him. Derek looked a little relieved that Stiles wasn't asking the obvious questions either. He let out a long harsh exhale, shoulders sagging as his lungs deflated. </p><p>"She's still in Beacon Hills," he said. "She's got an apartment a couple floors above ours."</p><p>"So, you have custody of Issac now?"</p><p>Derek nodded. Stiles glanced back at the kid. He was thirteen now. It was crazy to think the last time he saw Issac, the kid had been eight and Stiles was the thirteen year old. </p><p>Stiles still had the teddy bear Issac had given him those years ago. It was on his dresser, next to a picture of himself and his dad -he'd stopped calling him by name when he'd stayed with him all night through his second ever withdrawal, rubbing his back until Stiles had fallen asleep- on a fishing trip. </p><p>Stiles felt his heart lurch when he realized Stiles was never going to see that picture or that bear ever again. </p><p>"Is that why he doesn't talk anymore?" Stiles asked, trying to get his mind off of it. It didn't help. He still wondered if the blood stain in the foyer had been easy to remove, or if they hadn't bothered. If they'd scraped the brain matter off the hardwood or just decided to scrap the whole house. </p><p>"He was in the house," Derek said with a nod. "Talia threw him out of the window of his bedroom. He broke his collarbone and his arm."</p><p>"I'm sorry," Stiles said, looking back to Issac before glancing at Derek. He had changed. He was thicker, more muscled, and older. There was strands of grey at his temples -unnoticeable except if the light hit it just right. </p><p>The most shocking change was his eyes though. Stiles remembered what he had been like before. His eyes had danced, and he smiled. Even back then, he seemed a little unapproachable. Now though, Stiles could see the hard set to his mouth, the steel in his eyes. </p><p>Stiles was sure he had changed a lot as well. It made everything so much worse. </p><p>"How did it happen?" Stiles asked. He had to. The Hales had been his first family. </p><p>Derek didn't speak for a long time, and Stiles was sure he wouldn't answer, but he sighed, seeming to be decided. </p><p>"You take down someone as powerful as Deucalion and you're bound to have reprocussions."</p><p>Stiles didn't know what to say to that. He knew doing what they did -taking down Deucalion and his drug and human trafficking ring- wouldn't be as clean cut as going to prison and never hearing from them again. It was why Stiles had been put into witness protection. </p><p>But Stiles had figured if Deucalion and the rest of them wanted revenge, they'd go after Stiles -which they had. He never once worried about the Hales. And he should've. </p><p>"I'm sorry," Stiles said, because he couldn't think of anything else to say. It was his fault. Deucalion hurt the Hales because Stiles had agreed to testify. </p><p>But Derek just shook his head, moved up the bed and wrapped his arms around Stiles. Stiles hugged him back, hands still shaking. He was too tired and too overwhelmed with everything. </p><p>He didn't realize he had fallen asleep holding Derek until the older man shifted, and Stiles was back against his pillow. He blinked his eyes open a little, hand squeezing Derek's wrist. </p><p>"You don't have to agree to it now," Derek said softly, seeing him awake. "But you have a place with us if you want."</p><p>"You don't want me around, Der," Stiles said softly. "Its my fault your family is dead."</p><p>Derek just shook his head, smiling sadly. "Its not," he said, standing to his feet to join Issac on the other bed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So this book was originally supposed to have twenty chapters but I'm bringing it down to fifteen. So one more chapter after this. I'm sorry for taking so long to post the next chapter, my creativity has been lacking. I'm struggling to finish the last chapter of Fox and the Hound, and I think I'm going to take a break from posting once I do. </p><p>I'm still writing, but I'm losing momentum. I write for a new book and by the third chapter I don't want to write it anymore. Depression is a big reason behind that, but I'm fine. I just need to rest and focus on other things. </p><p>I'm also sick. Got myself covid which is really fun. I'm going to try and knock out the rest of these two books but please don't expect them to be finished quickly. I'm trying my best.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Three months later</p><p>Derek woke up to an arm dropping over his face with a jolt. He blinked open his eyes and glanced over. Stiles was beside him, mouth parted, his other arm bent at an odd angle over his head. </p><p>He moves his arm, but grunts when Stiles just rolls over, shoulder now pinning Derek's arm to the bed, his leg bent and bracketing Derek's thighs. </p><p>"Stiles," he sighed, glaring at the side of the bed Stiles should be occupying. Instead, Issac is laying there, fast asleep with a stuffed bear. </p><p>Derek sighs again, a small smile lifting his lips. Derek and Issac had taken Stiles back to his old house before the flight back to Beacon Hills. </p><p>He got to say goodbye and pack a few things. It was surprising when Derek had seen the stuffed bear sitting on his dresser next to framed photos of Stiles and his handler-turned-father. </p><p>Stiles had snatched it up and given it to Issac, thanking the kid and telling him it really helped. Since then, Issac hasn't gone anywhere without it. </p><p>It didn't seem to matter that Issac was nearly fourteen years old. It helped when Issac had nightmares. </p><p>Stiles was doing better too. He was clean again, and he was in AA, and going to therapy twice a month. Being in Beacon Hills helped, where the only 'drug' Stiles could get easily was weed. </p><p>Weed helped him a lot when the medications didn't quite cut it. Derek hated the smell, but Stiles smoked it on the fire escape. </p><p>Derek remembered the first time he saw Stiles smoking. He had just gotten back from a shift, and had gotten Issac from school. He was sitting on the fire escape, sitting parallel to the living room window, staring at the small town square, still as can be. </p><p>Derek had gone into the room to change, and when he came back out, Issac was sitting out with him. </p><p>"It helps with depression and anxiety," Stiles was saying, voice coming in through the opened window. "Calms your mind. Helps me when I get cravings."</p><p>Derek had stood there for a minute, hidden from them, but curious. Issac -silent as ever- had nodded towards the joint between Stiles' thumb and fingers, and Stiles took a drag on it before handing it over. </p><p>The cop and guardian in Derek wanted to shout and run over to them and smack the joint out of Issac's hand, but the other part, the part that had taken to drinking at night to stave off the nightmares, knew that sometimes it was okay to do things that might not be legal in order to cope. </p><p>And if that meant letting an eighteen year old teach a thirteen year old how to properly smoke weed, then so be it. </p><p>Thankfully, Stiles was really good with Issac's intake, and the kid only really needed it when he struggled with his nightmares and anxiety. </p><p>So Derek had turned a blind eye, and hadnt mentioned the stink to Issac's breath when the two came in for dinner. </p><p>That was three months ago. A month ago, Stiles had confessed his crush on Derek. It had happened late at night, long after Issac had gone to sleep. </p><p>Derek and Stiles had been watching a wildlife documentary on the discovery channel, when Stiles had hummed a little. </p><p>"You know," he said, glancing at Derek with a smirk. "I had the biggest crush on you the last time we lived together."</p><p>"Really?" Derek asked in shock, because Derek wasn't very crush worthy in his opinion. </p><p>"Yeah," Stiles grinned. "You gave off so much Uncle Jesse vibes, and you were hot as fuck. Thirteen year old me was so gone for you."</p><p>Derek was surprised with how open Stiles was being about it, no embarrassment tinged his cheeks pink. </p><p>"What? I'm not 'hot as fuck' now?" Derek had asked. He was joking, not real sure what else to say to that. He couldn't exactly say he was also attracted to Stiles then, because he wasn't. Stiles had been a child, and although he definitely looked like he could be attractive when he was older, Derek was never inclined to think of him any way. </p><p>Now though, Derek could say with certainty that Stiles had grown into his looks. His features were impish, sharp cheek bones and jaw, upturned nose and a mouth with full soft looking lips. He was still pale, and he seemed to have doubled in the number of moles he had. </p><p>"No, you're still hot as fuck," Stiles confessed, elbow resting against the back of the couch, cheek on his fisted hand. "But you're completely out of my league."</p><p>"Huh?" Derek blinked. Stiles just smiled and shrugged before turning back to the show. </p><p>Derek stared at him a little more, mind processing what Stiles had said. And then he was moving to his knees, leaning over the space between and grabbing Stiles by the jaw and kissing his pillow soft lips. </p><p>Stiles smiled into the kid, like he had been expecting it, or hoping for it. Derek stayed on his knees, bent over Stiles, the hand not brushing against Stiles' jaw was pressed into the couch cushion to keep himself upright. </p><p>"Fuck I've always wanted to do that," Stiles breathed when they pulled apart. Derek choked on a laugh at that before kissing him once and settling back into his side of the couch. </p><p>Stiles grunted and scooted across the couch to settle against Derek, long legs stretched along the rest of the sofa. Derek smiled secretly to himself as he focused on the show playing in the TV, but he curled an arm around Stiles and pulled him just that little bit closer. </p><p>These last three months had been the best three months Derek's had since the fire. They weren't perfect. Stiles still woke up with nightmares, he still struggled with his addiction.</p><p>Derek still couldn't light candles without losing his breath. He still lied awake in bed because his insomnia wouldn't let him sleep. </p><p>Issac still had panic attacks at school and refused to talk. But all three of them were regularly going to therapy, and they all understood each other's struggle. It helped. </p><p>The first time Stiles and Derek slept together -it had been a couple days ago- Derek had to mentally prepare himself before getting naked in front of the teenager. </p><p>His burns didn't just cover the side of his neck and jaw. It curled over his shoulder, mutilated his pectoral and most of his bicep and upper back. </p><p>But Stiles had just pulled his own shirt off, lifted his right arm and pointed to a rather brutal looking scar Derek had never seen before. </p><p>It had made him feel better, having Stiles point at such a fatal looking scar before pressing their chests together and kissing him. His hands ran over his smooth and scared skin, unafraid to touch. </p><p>"Got that when I ruined a kilo of coke," he had hummed. "Ennis used a lead pipe, nearly punctured a lung."</p><p>The two had spent the night exploring each others bodies, fingers tracing at their imperfections, both getting a small story about them, from Derek's knife wound from a routine stop gone bad, to Stiles' self harm scars on his thigh. </p><p>Derek looked back at Stiles and Issac, both fast asleep in the early morning dim. He rolled onto his side, wrapping an arm around Stiles' waist and pulled him softly closer. </p><p>His mouth closed, tongue licking at his lips and eyebrows furrowed. He hummed softly before snuggling under Derek's chin. </p><p>Derek pressed a kiss to his hair before looking at Issac. The kid held the teddy bear close to his chest, his blue pajama set twisted around legs and arms from rough sleeping. </p><p>Derek took in his fill of the two boys in his full sized bed and sighs contentedly before settling down into the pillow, Stiles' soft breaths dampening the skin of Derek's collar bones. </p><p>Issac rolled over, back pressed to Stiles' and knees curling up. Derek lifts his hand and settles it on Issac's bicep, caging Stiles in before closing his eyes with a small smile and falling back asleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I finally finished! Oh my goodness that was rough. I lost motivation, had a bout of depression, then snagged myself some Covid. Its been a fun month, I'll tell ya. </p><p>Anyway, I still have to finish Fox and the Hound (although its not going to happen for a while yet) and I'm working on a couple projects that might or might not see the light of day but we shall see. </p><p>Thank you guys so much for sticking with me through these last few chapters. If you haven't, check out my other books! Or don't its up to you. </p><p>Also, I'm on Tumblr @super-wolf-sterek! </p><p>Let me know what you thought about the book, I love your comments!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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